


Hand in Mine, Into Your Icy Blues

by sundrowned



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, The Used
Genre: High School, Hockey, Ice Skating, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 11:51:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4018699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sundrowned/pseuds/sundrowned
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard is the captain of the hockey team and his overbearing father is the coach. When a new boy named Frank joins the team, Gerard has to decide weather to follow his father's orders to stay away from the boy or choose his own path.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hand in Mine, Into Your Icy Blues

**Author's Note:**

> For Bandom Big Bang 2015. 
> 
> Thank you to winterlover for creating a lovely graphic art complement! - http://archiveofourown.org/works/4001647

When Gerard's skates touch the ice he feels free. He feels completely in control. Like he can do anything. When his blades slice across the surface, his body can do things it can never do when he's stumbling around, walking on two legs. When he's on the ice, his movements are in sync and he feels like he's flying. It's the only time he can catch his breath. 

The rink was empty this time of day. Hell, it wasn't even open yet. It was 6am and he could see the pale blue sky fading into shades of cotton candy pink through the big glass windows above the ice. He only had a key 'cause his dad coached the towns hockey team. So he'd come in when the building was all but completely deserted, and it was just him and the ice. He closed his eyes and paid close attention to the sharp sound of metal blades on smooth ice. He listened intently as his body seemed to move by itself. In circles, looping around, going in figure 8's and then doing them backwards. The sound was all he noticed. It filled his head until it was all he could focus on. Blades against ice. 

"Gerard." The voice shattered the loaded silence like glass. Gerard's eyes flew open and he whipped his head around towards the sound. But he knew the voice before he saw the face. "Hey, Dad."

"You're here ... early." His father's eyes followed him as he slid towards the gate and stepped off the ice, making his way towards him. Gerard lurched forward and almost lost his balance as he walked unsteadily on the carpet. He sat down on the bench and began to unlace his skates. "I like it here in the mornings," he said quietly. 

"Right. Well, we've got a game this Friday. Practice is good but ... don't overwork yourself. Can't have the captain of the team not being at a hundred percent, now can we?" 

Gerard thought about that a minute before saying "No. No, we can't have that." His father laughed. Gerard stared down at his skates. 

"Have you thought about when you're going to start applying for colleges? It needs to happen soon if you're going to get a full ride. Which, we both know you will. You're best hockey player in this entire town. But it won't happen if you don't apply." His dad spoke loudly, his voice filling up the room and echoing off the high ceilings. Gerard stayed quiet.

"I haven't decided yet" he said softly. 

Gerard was so unlike his father in so many obvious ways. He had shaggy black hair and green eyes, and a voice as airy as field of wheat, while his father stood at a towering 6'5" and had a somber face with deeply set lines, always looking somewhat agitated. His hair and eyes were dark brown and he always spoke like he was announcing something, like every word he spoke was important and needed to be heard by all in attendance. It was a wonder how they we're related at all. 

"Haven't decided yet? What's to decide?" his father said incredulously. 

Gerard's mouth went dry. His fathers eyes bored into him, and he shrugged.

"You're going to college. You're going to play hockey. What's there to even think about? What else would you do?" Gerard shrugged a second time and his father threw up his hands, exasperated. 

Gerard shrunk into himself. His father sighed loudly and stormed off into one of the back rooms. 

It was a good question, though. What else _would_ he do? He had no idea, honestly, but that wasn't the point. All he wanted was to have options. He felt trapped. What if he was forced into this life, the life his father wanted for him, and he hated it? He loved hockey, and he loved to skate, but he didn't know if wanted to make it is life and he _sure_ as hell didn't want to feel like a hand was forcing him into it. He felt like his throat was closing up. 

Gerard looked around him, and found himself completely alone again. He shoved his socked feet into his skates, tied them back up and staggered towards the ice, and didn't exhale until he felt it under his skates again. He traced shapes across it, flying back and force. He danced from one end to the other while humming softly to himself. He closed his eyes and began to focus again on the sound of blades against ice.

*

"Dude, there is no way." 

"Yes. Kyle told me he saw them kissing in the gym during lunch period. He told me straight after too. You can kinda tell when a guy is lying, and I could see it in his eyes. I believe him." 

"But ... Mr. Locklear and Ms. Kelly? There is no way! She is _so_ out of that mans league! Like, there not even in the same sport, let alone the same league!"

"Whatever man, that's just what I heard." Gerard said, rolling his eyes. 

"Okay. I'm just gonna pay close attention next time I see them together. I'll be able to tell if they've got a thing or not" Ray said, ending the discussion. He hitched his hockey bag higher up on his shoulder as they neared the entrance to the rink. "Damn it, this things so heavy" Ray said, sighing loudly. 

Gerard pulled open the double doors and felt the wall of cold air hit him in the face, along with the familiar smell of sports equipment and ice. Not that ice had much of a smell, but enough of one that you notice it, a kind of burning cold in your nose. The loud smacking of pucks and voices talking over each other filled his ears. 

Gerard went straight for the locker room. "Hey put my bag in there too, while you're at it?" Ray said, shifting his bag and tossing it towards Gerard. It landed in a heap at his feet. 

"Sure, sure. Let me just get a fucking hernia before I even turn 18. No, its fine, really." 

"Thanks, Way" Ray said, laughing, as he pushed through the doors to join the rest of the guys. 

Gerard sighed and heaved it onto his free shoulder. "Fuck" he whispered. With bent knees, he hobbled towards the locker room.

"Need a hand?" 

The voice startled him and he dropped both bags. He turned around to see a boy standing in the bathroom doorway, watching him. The boys eyes landed on the bags lying on the ground. Gerard had never seen this boy before. He had a haircut unlike any of the other kids in town, short on one side and the other long and swooping over his eye. It stuck up in weird places. The boy had a trace of red makeup under his hazel eyes, which should not have looked nearly as good as it did. 

He looked out of place, yet here he was, wearing one of Gerard's teams red and black jerseys.

Gerard realized he was full-on staring. With his mouth open too. Jesus. 

"As in, would you like some help with that?" the boy said, breaking the silence again. 

"Oh. Oh, sure. Sorry." Gerard spoke quickly, gesturing to one of the duffel bags. Gerard picked up the other and started towards the locker room. 

The boy followed. "You, uh, you new here?" Gerard asked. 

"Yup. Just got in, from Jersey. I'm Frank." 

Gerard stopped in front of the locker room doors and, turning to the boy, held out a hand and said, "Gerard. How are you liking Grand Rapids?" 

Frank paused and, without answering his actual question, said "We had to move here for my mom's job. There was no other choice." He said the words to Gerard, but it felt like he was saying them to himself. As a reminder. Frank shook his head and pushed into the locker room. 

Gerard followed him in. Frank set the bag gingerly on a wooden bench then sat down next to it, patting the space beside him, inviting Gerard to join him. Gerard accepted and sat down. 

"What's the high school like? I start on Monday" Frank asked. 

"Oh you know, it's not too bad. Most of the guys on the team hang out a lot, at lunch and stuff. You're welcome to join, so at least you'd know some people. Most of the teachers are decent. The P.E coach is lame though. Always makes you run laps if you're late."

Frank sighed loudly and said "God, speaking of coaches, am I the only one who thinks Mr. Way seems like kind of a drag? I mean I've just met him, but I'm getting major jackass vibes from that dude. Well, you've known him longer, is he alright?" 

Gerard pursed his lips before answering that one. 

"Yeah, I'd say I know him pretty well ... for about 17 years actually. He's my dad." 

Franks eyes widened a bit. "Oh shit! I'm sorry, man, I didn't know." he said frantically. 

Gerard laughed. "Relax. It's okay. I agree, I'm getting jackass vibes from him, too." 

Frank laughed with him. "Really, sorry" he repeated. 

Gerard waved a hand in dismissal of his apology. He jerked a thumb towards the doors to the rink. "We should probably get in there." Frank nodded. 

"Alright, Toro and Dewees, I want you two on drills. And let's try to get the puck _into_ the net this time, alright? Or at least lets keep it on the ice." Coach Way's voice boomed loudly throughout the room. 

Ray laughed and sheepishly lined himself up with the net to work on his aim.

Gerard's father spotted him and Frank approaching. His eyes lingered on Frank a bit too long and there was something behind his gaze - something disapproving. 

"I see you've met Mr. Iero" he said to Gerard. 

"Yeah, yeah." Gerard said quietly before he asked "Should we, uh, get started on some drills too? I need to work on my defense."

His father nodded and said "You guys get set up on the other end." He passed Frank a hockey stick. "You ever use one of these before?" he said with a little bit of a laugh. 

Gerard wondered what he meant by that. He was on the hockey team, wasn't he? Why would he not have used a hockey stick before? 

Frank raised an eyebrow and said in the most childish tone he could, "Why yes, Sir, yes I have!" He rolled his eyes and pushed past him.

Gerard put on his skates and pads and joined him at the empty end of the rink, slicking back his hair and pulling a goalie mask down over his face. 

"Don't you at least want some elbow pads?" Gerard asked. 

Frank shrugged, his eyes fixated on the puck as he batted it back and forth with his stick. "I'll be okay." he said finally. 

"Well alright then" Gerard said, widening his stance in the net. 

Frank began taking shots. Gerard blocked them with ease. 

"So, you're the captain, huh?" Frank said, between breaths. 

Gerard swallowed thickly. "I am indeed. I didn't campaign for it or anything. I guess you could say I was born into my position of power, being the coach's son and all." 

Frank laughed. "Kind of like a king? You know, the heir to the thrown." 

"Exactly!" Gerard said, his chest huffing from exertion. 

Frank nodded and stopped shooting for a moment. Gerard caught his breath and said teasingly, "Are you out of practice? Or do you just suck?" 

Frank narrowed his eyes. "Okay." he said, lining up a few more pucks. 

He skated across the ice, smacking each one and sending them towards Gerard. Each one sailed past Gerard's attempt at blocking and sunk into the net.

Gerard pulled up his mask and eyed Frank. 

"So you we're holding out on me, were you?" 

"I'm just warming up, baby" Frank said, dancing across the ice, twirling his stick in his hands. 

Frank sunk puck after puck, Gerard flying after each one and failing to catch it. 

Gerard laid back on the ice in a heap, letting out his breath in a whoosh. "Okay, you win. Maybe you should be captain." 

"Hey, okay, I'm game. I'll give you my address so you can mail me your crown and scepter." Frank said, grinning. 

Gerard laughed and said, "Fine! You should probably get it polished first though. It's been a while. It's getting a bit rusted." 

Frank nodded and laid back next to him. Gerard listened closely to Franks stuttered breathing as it slowed to a normal rate. 

Time passed slowly and neither of them said a word. Gerard sat up suddenly and looked around him. He realized he had no idea how long they'd been laying there. 

The ice was empty, and his dad was huddled up near the benches with a few players, holding a dry erase board and drawing out what appeared to be different plays. And here Gerard was, laying on the ice next to this kid he just met, looking like they were stargazing or some shit, if there had been any stars to gaze in this hockey rink. 

Gerard suddenly felt his father watching them from across the room. His eyes said, " _Christ, why don't you just hold hands and skip into the sunset together?_ " 

"I should go" Gerard said, standing up. 

Frank sat forward. "Wait ... I'll see you Monday, okay?" 

Gerard nodded and made for the locker rooms. 

He looked over his shoulder to see Frank still sitting on the ice, watching him. He pushed through the doors and they shut behind him. The silent locker room made the loudness in his head feel even louder. 

*

Gerard's eyes opened slowly to his bedroom, flooded in orange from the sun creeping up onto the horizon. He'd never much cared for Sundays. He climbed out of bed and made his way downstairs. The house was dark and eerie, like a still from a movie. He loaded the coffee maker and started it, then sat in front of the window. The early morning sunlight washed over his face. 

He spotted a deer just at the edge of their property, watching him through the trees. They locked eyes. It was so far away, yet Gerard could make out how deep the recesses of its eyes were. He felt like he was peering into its soul. 

"Morning." a low gravelly voice said. 

Gerard jumped a bit and his eyes widened and he wondered if maybe he needed to get some more sleep, because for about a half a second, he thought it had been the deer that had spoke.

But it was not the deer, it had been Mikey, his little brother. And what was it with people and sneaking up on him? 

"I don't even remember the last time you were up before noon on a weekend" Gerard said. Mikey shrugged. 

"I don't remember the last time you were home at this hour, and not at the rink" he countered. Gerard shrugged back. Mikey sat down next to him and for a minute they just stared at the sunrise together.

Then the coffeemaker beeped. "You want some?" Gerard asked, pouring himself a cup. 

"Listen, I know you drank coffee at my age because you've always been a weirdo, but normal middleschoolers don't drink coffee." 

Gerard stuck out his tongue. "Nerd" he said under his breath. 

Mikey narrowed his eyes. "Hey, you think I _want_ to be the family nerd, while you're the star athlete? Do you think if I had any coordination whatsoever that I would continue to -." 

Gerard cut him off. "Pipe down, drama queen. I'm just messing with you." 

Mikey rolled his eyes. "Either way, at least I don't have Dad breathing down my neck about scholarships. _That_ , I truly pity you for." Mikey left the room then, and Gerard wished he hadn't reminded him of that.

Just thinking about his future made his chest feel tight. Gerard clutched his warm mug and went back to the window. He scanned the trees for the deer, but it was gone. Gerard sighed.

*

There was a loud knock on Gerard's bedroom door. "Can I come in?" his father's muffled voice asked from the other side. 

"Yeah."

Gerard sat up on his bed. "I wanted to talk to you about something" his dad said, sitting down next to him. Gerard raised his eyebrows. He felt a knot in the pit of his stomach. His father's stern look made it blatantly obvious it wasn't anything pleasant.

"I see you've made friends with that new kid, Frank?" Gerard genuinely hadn't expected this conversation to start with that sentence. 

"Uh, I guess? Well, I mean, not really. I barely know the kid..." Gerard's voice trailed off. 

"Right" his dad started. "Well, I think you should keep it that way."

"Huh?" 

His father sighed and said "He's not like you. Not like us, or your teammates. You know what he did in Jersey? Did he tell you? He wasn't on a hockey team. He was a figure skater. Like, in glittery costumes. Dancing."

Gerard was silent. His dad watched him, waiting for him to speak, but he didn't. 

"I'm not gonna tell the kid he can't be on the team. I mean, jeez, that'd be a real pain in the neck. I'd probably get an angry phone call from his parents. People'd say I was being prejudiced. I don't want to deal with all of that." Gerard continued not to say anything. He fidgeted with his hands and avoided his fathers eyes. 

"But I think you know what I'm getting at. He's not like us. And what, with you needing to focus all of your attention on doing your best in every game, and getting a scholarship, I think it's best if you stay away from the kid. Alright?" 

Gerard said nothing, but he could feel his face getting hot.

He didn't know what he felt for this boy, and he didn't really care. Either way he did feel _something_ for him. And now thanks to his dad, he couldn't even hang around him? It was bullshit. If he wants to get to know someone, he should be able to. How dare his father go to such lengths to control every aspect of his life.

Of course, Gerard said none of that. He nodded and kept his gaze focused out the window, watching the clouds slip over the moon. 

"Great. Night, kiddo." his dad said, patting his leg and getting up to leave. Gerard couldn't look at him. 

He felt the anger rise up in his throat. He felt like a puppet. And his father was his master. And like any properly working puppet, he didn't make a move without his master. All Gerard wanted to do was like who he wanted to like, and do what he wanted to do. 

He thought about how much his father had changed in the three short years since his parents divorce. When his mother had packed up and moved to California, she had seemingly taken his fathers humanity with her. Gerard and Mikey lived with her in the Spring and Summer, but during the cold, unforgiving last half of the year, they were in Grand Rapids and he missed her. And he knew his father missed her too.

So, he could forgive his father for attempting to put all of his energy into making Gerard's future the best it could be. He just wished he'd go about it a different way. And he was still totally annoyed that he wouldn't let him at least be friends with Frank.

Either way, he couldn't deal with letting him down. Not just that he'd feel bad, but he physically could not deal with him going off the handle again. 

So he'd stay away from Frank. How hard could that be?

*

"Hey! Did you bring my crown and scepter?!" Frank yelled from across the hallway. 

Frank waved Gerard down and made his way through the crowd of students toward him. "Or, actually, you were supposed to mail them to me!" Frank laughed, almost to Gerard. 

Before he could reach him, Gerard backed away. His eyes widened as he searched for an escape.

He had to stay away from Frank.

Frank watched, confused, as Gerard darted up a random stairwell. 

"Hey wait up!" Frank yelled, finally through the throng of people. He started after him. "Gerard!" 

Gerard ignored him and when he reached the top of the staircase, he looked around and realized he had never been on this part of the second floor. He had never had any classes over here, and he was sure this would make him late to Biology. But he didn't care. 

He heard Frank making his way up the stairs. "Hey, Gerard! Didn't you hear me?" Frank yelled, nearing the top of the staircase landing. He wheezed, waving his arms as if to say, _"Please, for the love of God, stop running."_

Gerard took off and yelled over his shoulder, "Got to get to class!" He was gone before Frank could say anything else. 

*

It was the second to last period of the day. Gerard had successfully avoided Frank, and he hadn't showed up in any of his classes. This might be easier then he thought. 

Ten seconds before the bell rang, the class door opened. Fuck.

Frank strolled in and immediately locked eyes with Gerard. He went straight for the empty desk directly next to him. Gerard put his head in his hands. 

Ms. Mewler, the history teacher, took notice of Frank. "Oh!" she said. "Class, we have a new student. This is Frank -." She paused and squinted down at her paper. "Lero? Is that it?" 

Frank just nodded, and whispered _"nope"_ under his breath.

"We're learning about the holocaust" she said to Frank. "And today we're watching a documentary about it. And you'll take notes as you do" she said, this time to the whole class. 

She quickly popped a DVD into the player and clicked on the TV. The screen went blue then faded into the title screen for a movie entitled "History of the Holocaust". She flipped off the lights.

Frank leaned over, resting his elbow on Gerard's desk. He whispered, "Did I do something wrong?"

Gerard frowned. He felt awful. Frank really had not done anything wrong, at all. Nothing at all. 

"No!" Gerard whispered back loudly. "I just ... can't be friends with you, okay? It's complicated. I'm sorry."

Frank raised his eyebrows but didn't say anything. 

"Shh!" Mrs. Mewler said loudly to Gerard. 

Frank leaned back off Gerard's desk and turned away from him. He watched the movie and didn't say anything else. 

*

Gerard hated walking home alone. But Ray, who usually would accompany him, seeing as he lived on his block, had gotten a ride with Brendon and Pete. 

_"Thanks for inviting me"_ Gerard thought bitterly. 

His ears perked up suddenly when he heard the scraping of sneakers on the sidewalk behind him. He quickened his pace. But so did the feet behind him. Gerard began to jog, and then full on sprint. The sound of the footsteps kept up with him easily. Gerard stopped in his tracks and spun around.

Frank stood awkwardly, half behind a shrub. 

"Are you following me?" Gerard asked.

"I - no. I was just walking. I live over here too, you know..." he trailed off.

Gerard nodded, and then turned around and continued walking. Frank caught up with him and walked beside him. 

"So you never told me why we cant be friends?" he said,posing it as a question. 

Gerard swallowed. "I told you, it's complicated."

Frank didn't reply to that. Instead, he said, "Least you can do is walk me home then."

Gerard stopped and looked at Frank. "As long as it's not too far out of the way" he said finally.

"It's not" Frank said.

And that was that. They kept walking til they passed Gerard's street. They're route took them by a large field with tall, swaying grass and a trickling creek. Well, it was mostly ice, but within that, the water trickled. At least a little bit. 

"What, do you live out in the middle of nowhere?" Gerard asked, as there surroundings got less residential and more rural.

"Nah, not really. Actually it's just up here" Frank said, pointing to a large white house up on a hill. It blocked out the sun and cast a huge shadow over its lawn. 

"You live _there_? That looks like the setting for a horror movie" Gerard said skeptically. 

Frank laughed quietly. "Come on."

"Hey, I walked you home. That was the deal."

Frank sighed. "Just, come on" he repeated. He tugged Gerard by his jacket sleeve towards the house. 

They made their way up the dirt path that was his driveway. There was a rusted red pickup truck parked under the shade of a tree. And next to that, was an old swing set. The swings moved slowly, as if someone had just been on them. It was almost certainly the wind, but it creeped Gerard out. 

"Ugh, seriously? No little girls died on this property right? You sure you don't have a set of twin ghosts on your hands? Like in The Shining?"

"Shut up!" Frank said, laughing. 

"Serious question, do you sometimes hear the disembodied laughter of children in your attic? Be honest."

Frank shoved Gerard.

He led him inside. 

"I'm home" he announced loudly. 

A small girl, around six or seven, came running in from the other room. She looked like Frank - wispy dark hair, big hazel eyes and a mischievous grin.

"Frankie!" she cheered and ran into his arms. He picked her up and hugged her. 

"Hey!" he said back, excitedly. "Amy, this is Gerard. Gerard, this is Amy, the best little sister in the world" Frank said. 

The little girl nodded, and stuck out her hand toward Gerard. He shook her hand. "Nice to meet you" He said. 

Frank put the girl down and she ran back into the other room without another word.

"We're, uh, we're working on her manners" Frank said, scratching the back of his head. 

"Hey, i mean she's got the business casual greeting down, so that's a good start" Gerard said, chuckling. "So where's your mom?"

"At work. She works all day, and some nights. The nanny is probably somewhere upstairs. She's not super pleasant though, so we can just skip introductions with her." Frank said. 

Gerard nodded. 

"Come on, I've got something i wanna show you" Frank said, leading Gerard back outside through a side door. They we're on the opposite side of the house now. Without the shadow of the building, the sun was blinding.

Frank made his way to the edge of the grass and to where the trees began. Without hesitating, he started into them. "Uh, where're we going?" Gerard asked, hesitantly. 

"You'll see" said Frank. "You got your skates in your bag?" he asked. 

"Yeah..." Gerard said.

"Good."

They made their way through the tangled trees. The ground was frozen in some places, and super slippery, making it even more difficult. But it really was beautiful here, the pale sunlight streaming through the leaves and illuminating the forest floor. The light shimmered off the snow and grass. 

"Almost there" Frank said. 

The trees thinned out, and then they reached a clearing. And suddenly, before them was a small pond. It was almost in the shape of a perfect circle, and surrounded by tall weeds and wild flowers. And it was completely frozen.

The sun glinted off its surface. 

"Ta-da!" said Frank, smiling. 

"I haven't showed anyone else but you this place yet. It's perfect." Frank began. 

"It's great, Frank. I'll be honest though, I don't do much skating on natural ice. Well, any. I'm always afraid it'll fall through."

Frank abruptly grabbed Gerard's hand and said, "You'll be fine. If you fall in, I'll jump in and save you." 

Frank laughed, but Gerard said nothing. He looked into Frank's eyes, and suddenly he was so aware of their color. A deep golden brown, like honey, with flecks of green. And in the light, it was so vivid Gerard couldn't look away from them.

"It's perfect. More specifically, for practice." Frank said, casually.

"Practice?" Gerard asked. He raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah ..." Frank started. "There's this skating competition. And, you know, if you wanted to be my partner..." his voice trailed off. 

The clearing was silent, only the sound of birds chirping in the distance. 

If Gerard's fathers fears could manifest in any more real of a way, he'd like to see it. This was exactly the kind of thing he would not want Gerard doing. 

"Like, figure skating? I'm sorry, but I so can not do that. It's actually kind of funny how much I can not do that." Gerard spoke quickly.

Franks disappointment was immediate and obvious on his face, and felt like a kick in Gerard's stomach. 

"I really would if there was any way," Gerard began. 

Frank cut in. "You know what, it's okay. You don't need to explain."

"Listen, there's a figure skating club at our school. It's filled with pretty, competent girls who've been skating their whole lives. I'm sure you can find a partner there, right?"

Frank shook his head. "It's dumb, right? But I just ... I skate better with guys. I don't know why, I just always have. It always got me funny looks back home, too, but I never gave a shit. I wouldn't even be asking you if I thought I could find even one other guy in this town who can skate and is willing to put on a leotard." He laughed quietly to himself, like he was remembering something.

"And it's not like there's an amazing prize or anything. It's just ... my mom has been through a lot. She works constantly to keep this family afloat. My dad's been AWOL for all of Amy's life, and most of mine. She works hard. And the happiest I've seen my mom in a while was when she used to see me skate. She'd come to my competitions and she was so damn proud. I thought if I could at least find a partner and compete, maybe I'd see her smile again. But hey, it's my problem, not yours." Frank finished. 

Gerard was stunned into silence. Frank had completely opened up to him, and Gerard hadn't even been able to tell Frank why they couldn't be friends. 

"I at least owe you an explanation" Gerard finally said. 

Frank made his way out onto the ice, but watched Gerard as he did so he knew he was listening. He didn't even bother putting on his skates. 

Frank slid out into the middle of the ice in his sneakers and sat down. He laid back and patted the ice next to him, inviting Gerard to sit next to him once again. 

"I - I told you. I'm afraid it'll fall through" Gerard stammered. 

Frank said nothing. He didn't need to. 

Gerard sighed and slowly made his way towards Frank. "Fuck" he whispered as put all his weight onto the ice. He got down on all fours and crawled to Frank, then carefully laid out next to him. 

Again, they laid next to each other like they were stargazing.

"So, let me just start by saying my dad's an asshole." Gerard began. 

"Right, go on" Frank said, smiling.

"And he thinks if I'm friends with you, It'll like, taint me or something. I won't be the hardworking star hockey player of a son he's always wanted. It's bullshit" said Gerard. 

Frank looked over at him, listening.

"I don't why he's got that in his head. Like, all figure skaters are raving homosexual witches, just waiting to claim more victims to add to their cult? I guess? I don't even know." Gerard said, exasperated.

"Well, he's right about that part" Frank said, grinning. 

Gerard grinned back, then turned his eyes back to the sky.

"Fuck" Gerard said. 

"What?"

"God damn it."

"What's wrong?" Frank asked. 

"I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna be your partner. God damn it."

"You are?! Hell yeah!" Frank said loudly. 

Frank's grin grew bigger and he started shouting now. 

"Fuck yeah! Wooooh!" he yelled into the empty sky. 

He was getting Gerard excited now. 

"Yeah, Fuck yeah!" Gerard shouted.

Frank was just making loud noises at this point.

"And you know what?" Gerard said. "Fuck my dad, too!"

"Yeah, fuck your dad!" Frank echoed. 

They laid back, laughing, and Gerard was smiling so big. But he knew he was fucked.

*

The final school bell rang loudly through the classroom. Gerard gathered his books and made his way outside. He spotted Ray and a few guys from the team walking in a group. 

"Hey guys! Wait up!" Gerard yelled after them.

"Oh. Hey, man" Ray said. 

Gerard wasn't sure if he'd imagined it, but he thought he'd heard Brendon sigh as he approached. 

"You, uh, you hanging out with that Frank kid after practice again?" Brendon asked.

"As a matter of fact, I am" said Gerard.

Brendon nodded. "He's weird. Everyone thinks so. There's a rumor going around that you guys like to figure skate together?" he asked, snickering. 

Gerard stopped walking. He recoiled. "Where did you hear that?" he practically spat the words.

Brendon shrugged.

Ray tried to change the subject. "Hey, did you see the Penguins _destroy_ the Blackhawks last night? It was brutal" he said, referring to the hockey game on TV last night. 

No one answered him. 

Pete clapped a hand on Gerard's shoulder. "I wouldn't worry about it too much, eh, G? You two make a really cute couple" he said, grinning. 

Gerard shrugged out from under his arm. "We're just friends. Which is exactly what I thought you guys were, but I guess I was wrong." Gerard was hurt to here his teammates laughing, cruelly accusing him, and he wasn't even sure exactly what they were accusing him of. 

Patrick spoke up now. "Hey, guys, lay off him. Gerard, we are your friends. You're the captain of this team. We need you, man, you hold the team together." 

Ray nodded. "So what if Frank's a little weird? And so what if they like to figure skate?" Ray said, coming to Gerard's defense.

"Wait no," Gerard interjected. "We're not - We don't figure skate. Please don't tell people that. We don't figure skate, okay?"

"Ugh, here he comes" Brendon said suddenly.

Frank rounded a corner and waved to the group. 

"Hey, guys."

No one said anything. Pete, Brendon and Patrick just kept walking. Gerard stopped in front of Frank, and gave Ray a pleading look. 

"Just a sec" Gerard said to Frank. 

He pulled Ray aside to finish their conversation. 

"Look, until you stop", Ray paused and gestured to Frank, " _this_ , I can't promise that the guys will treat you normal. Patrick's right, you're the captain of this team. But figure skating? It's just too weird. I'm sorry, man." He finished.

"We are not figure skating!" Gerard whispered at top volume. 

Frank raised an eyebrow as he watched them.

"I don't know who even started that ... rumor. Look, we can talk about this later, okay?" Gerard said. 

Ray nodded and caught up with the group.

"What was that all about?" Frank asked.

Gerard didn't answer his question. "Did you tell anyone about our ... project?" he asked. 

Frank looked away, then down at his feet. "I might have told one or two people ... a few weeks ago, when we first started practicing" Frank began. 

"Frank! I told you not to! This only works if it's done in complete secrecy!" 

"I'm sorry!" whined Frank. "I was just so excited you agreed to do it! I told my lab partner, Becky, that my partner for the competition was the captain of the hockey team. I only told her 'cause she's competing too, and she bragged about having a professional partner flown in from France! I'm sorry! It's Becky's fault, not mine!"

"Damn it, Frank! Did you tell anyone else?!"

Frank looked back down at his sneakers. He seemed incredibly interested in his shoelaces now, the way he studied them.

"Frank!" Gerard said, practically yelling, as they walked down the sidewalk towards the hockey rink. 

"The lunch lady saw the T-shirt I was wearing from the last competition I went to! She asked if I was competing, and I couldn't lie to the lunch lady! She always gives me extra milk..."

"Frank, Jesus Christ."

"I'm sorry..."

"If it gets back to my dad, we're done. He'll kill me." Gerard said, his eyes bugging out of his head. 

"I won't tell another soul" Frank said softly and squeezed Gerard's hand reassuringly before they headed in for practice.

*

"Okay, great, but this time keep your leg _straight_ , alright?" Frank said, rather condescendingly.

"I am! It doesn't get any straighter! I'm not flexible like you" said Gerard. 

Gerard kept his balance on his right leg, leaning his weight forward and keeping his left leg straight out behind him. He skated back and forth across the pond in their little clearing. 

"You can do better than that."

Gerard was fed up. "I'm taking a break."

"No, no not yet! We've got to get one of these moves down today, remember? I'll be gone next week, we need to get more done before then!" 

Frank took this very seriously.

"Okay, well there's no way we're gonna get the other one down today. Not unless I gain a decent amount of muscle mass in the next ten minutes. It's just not humanly possible I can lift you over my head and you almost took my head off last time." Gerard crossed his arms over his chest. 

"Well, I believe in you, G" Frank said. Gerard wasn't sure exactly when Frank had adopted that nickname for him, but he hadn't protested because he secretly liked it.

Frank suddenly took a running start towards Gerard. "Catch me!"

Gerard placed his hands on Franks hips as their bodies made contact, and attempted to lift his body into the air. 

Franks legs flailed wildly and Gerard's knees buckled before he dropped him hard on the ice.

Gerard's own feet flew out from under him as he lost his balance from the collision, and he landed on his back besides Frank. 

"Fuck!" they both said, almost in unison. 

Frank groaned. "I think I popped my knee out of place. We'll get it down, but I think that's enough for today" he admitted. 

He grabbed Gerard's hand. This was a thing now that happened. Gerard hadn't decided if he liked it, but he thought sort of knew what his answer would be when he did decide. 

"Amy's so excited about next week" Frank said.

Frank had told Gerard about how he'd finally saved up enough money from his burger flipping job to take his little sister to Disney World.

"It's been her dream since she was four" Frank had said, grinning.

"So what's that, coming up on three years now?" Gerard had said back.

In truth, Gerard adored the way Frank's relationship with his kid sister was. She was his world, and he doted on that child like Gerard had never seen. 

"I bet" Gerard said, as Frank laid his head in his lap.

"And she deserves it" Frank continued. 

"She hardly ever complains at all when my mom has to be gone all the time, sometimes for days. She's a really strong kid. I mean my mom hates having to spend so many hours at the hospital, but Amy understands. She get's that its her job and she has to, and I think we're both just grateful of how she handles it."

Gerard thought back to when Frank explained why his family had to move to here in the first place. 

The hospital in Jersey where his mother had been employed had closed down. The only place with an opening was St. Lowell's in the wonderful backwoods town they lived in in Grand Rapids, Michigan. 

"We had to go where the work was. Everyone has to make sacrifices sometimes" Frank had explained. 

Gerard stroked Frank's hair.

"Anyways, so i'll be gone for three days. We got to get as much practice in as we can. There's less then a month til the competition. Are you ... gonna miss me?" Frank asked. He batted his lashes and looked up at Gerard. 

"Miss you? I think i'll manage" Gerard said, not really answering the question. 

The closest they had gotten was holding hands and a bit of touching. Gerard acted without thought, the way Frank had when he'd yelled "Catch me!"

He leaned down and pressed his lips to Frank's. 

The kiss lasted longer then Gerard expected. Then he pulled away, his eyes closed. 

They we're both quiet then, and Gerard was grateful. It was nice to not have to always feel the need to fill the silence.

*

"We're doing double practice today. One month til the game that will decide if we've got a shot at the championship or not" Coach Way said. He paced up and down the length of the benches strewn with team members. 

"This is important for all of us. Making it to the championship with my team has been my dream since I started coaching. And you all know that. But for the first time, we've won enough games to qualify and" he paused, seemingly getting emotional. "And now we have a chance. And I want you guys to work harder then you ever have. Alright, get out on that ice!" he thundered. 

Gerard got up to follow the others. His father put a hand on his chest, stopping him. "Slow down, there. So what I just said goes, like, quadruple for you. Do you even know how much your chances of getting scouted or picked for a scholarship will skyrocket if we win that championship? Do you, Gerard?" his fathers eyes seemed to pierce his skin.

He nodded. "I know. I know it's important. All I can do is try my best."

"Yeah. But this one time, I'll need you to give _more_ than your best. You have to give it absolutely everything. No distractions, no screwing around." As the words left his mouth, his fathers eyes fell upon Frank, shooting slap shots toward Patrick in the goal. 

Gerard flinched at that.

"I just don't want you to mess this up." his father finished. Gerard looked him dead in the eyes then wordlessly pushed past him. He laced up his skates. 

*

"And just sign your name right here - and you're all done! You're officially signed up for the Grand Rapids Regional Figure Skating Championship, Couples Division!" the woman at the community center singed. She tacked the sheet of paper to the bulletin board. "The last ones too! All the slots are filled now. Good luck, you two."

Great. Just what Gerard needed. Another championship. And it was the same weekend as the hockey game that Gerard's father never failed to mention would "make or break" Gerard's future unwanted hockey career. Gerard was tired just thinking about it. 

Frank took his hand as they left the building. "And of course, we don't need to win or anything. Just as long as we're in it. And again, thank you so much for being my partner. Really." Frank said for the fifteenth time. 

Gerard smiled back wordlessly. He knew nothing needed to be said.

The walk from the community center at the heart of town back to Frank's was a long one, so they got on their way. 

They rounded a corner near the movie theater, just as a movie let out. A crowd of people flooded out, and Gerard dropped Frank's hand. It was still a secret, after all. 

Gerard's luck turned terrible as Brendon and Pete came into view. It was hard to believe less than two months ago he'd considered them close friends. Now he just saw them as a threat to his relationship with Frank. 

"I think that's the worst movie I've seen all year" Pete said as they came into earshot. "Oh! Hey guys" he said.

Gerard nodded towards them. He didn't look at Brendon. 

Frank grinned and threw his arm around Gerard. Brendan narrowed his eyes and smiled back. "What are you two up to?" he asked.

"We we're just at the community center -." Frank was cut off by the loud yelp that escaped his throat when Gerard jabbed him in his side. 

"Oh yeah? What for? Do tell" said Brendon. 

"Volleyball practice" Gerard said suddenly.

Pete and Brendon exchanged a mildly confused look.

"... Volleyball practice?" Brendon asked. 

"I - yeah. Volleyball practice." Gerard said, avoiding their gazes. 

Brendon looked to Frank then, as if he was hoping to get something out of him. But Frank just stayed quiet and smiled back at them.

Pete nodded after a moment. "Well we should get going" he said and they passed them and continued down the sidewalk.

Gerard felt the blood drain from his face as he heard Brendon saying something just as they went around the corner.

Something that sounded like, "Welp, that kid's hiding something." 

*

"Hey, Lady - did you see two kids in here? Like, before us? One's got a mop of black hair. The other would've been a little brown haired kid, sorta resembles a forest nymph ..." Brendon asked, leaning over the community center front desk.

"Oh, yes! They we're just in here about twenty minutes ago."

"Could you tell me what they we're doing? Y'know, why they were here?"

The woman narrowed her eyes. "They got signed up for a competition. That's their business, but the sign up sheet _is_ posted on that board over there," she said, gesturing to a cork board on the opposite wall. "Technically, it's public information." 

"Well, thank you very much. That's all I needed to know."

Brendon grinned at the woman, a venomous smile full of straight teeth and bad intentions, fitting for a movie villain.

*

Gerard laid out on the ice and moved his arms and legs like he was making a snow angel. 

"I haven't even been here two months and even _I_ know there's no volleyball program at the community center. Nice going" Frank said.

"Yeah, well you didn't have to tell them where we actually were. Honestly anything would've been better telling those assholes the truth." Gerard countered.

Frank sighed. "Well, get up. We need to get as much done today as we can. I'll be gone until Sunday." He held out a hand and helped Gerard to his feet. 

"I want to get down the lift. I know we can do it." 

"Frankie, no. One of us is going to get seriously hurt if we do." Gerard was adamant. 

"Look, I want our routine to be perfect." Frank met Gerard's eyes and placed his hands on his shoulders. He nodded. "We can do it."

Gerard agreed and took a deep breath. He braced himself.

Frank launched himself at him and Gerard barely got him off the ground that time.

"Just - think about something that pisses you off. Focus on it. Use that focus and that anger and just put everything into it, okay?" Frank suggested.

Gerard blinked. 

"So what pisses you off?" Frank asked, trying to provoke him.

Gerard answered almost instantly. "My dad."

"And what does he do that pisses you off most?"

"He tries to make my decisions for me. And then he always makes me feel like I fucked it up somehow. Even though, he made the choice for me." Gerard's voice was calm. Frank's wasn't.

"Yeah that's fucked up! What do you want to say to your dad?"

Gerard's voice rose a little bit. "That it's my life. That I'm not going to let him ruin it."

"What else?!" Frank asked. He was yelling now.

That was one of the best parts about this location for practice. They could scream at the very top of their lungs and not be heard by another human soul - just the earth, the ice, the sky and one another. All just begging to be used to take their frustrations out. 

"That it's my fucking life! Not his! And if anyone's gonna fuck it up, it's gonna be me!" Gerard yelled back.

Gerard could feel his heart beat in every inch of his body. He couldn't think of anything but his anger. He stayed focus on it like the bulls-eye of a target. His dad was at the center of that target and Frank was his weapon. 

Frank had gotten a running start and now we ran headlong into Gerard. But this time Gerard was prepared. He had a steady grip on Franks hips as his feet flew off the ice and into the air. Gerard used all his strength and extended his arms, his muscles pulsing as he held Frank above his head.

Frank straitened out his body and for a moment, it was completely perfect. The execution played out like they we're professionals - like they'd been doing it for years.

Then Frank shifted his weight, his feet pointed towards the ground. Gerard thought he was going to drop him - but he didn't. He carefully placed him down onto the ice. 

Frank exploded like a firework. 

"Did you see that?! That was perfect! We did it, G!" Frank yelled, and he pulled Gerard in for a hug. He mumbled into Gerards shirt "Man, I can't believe that worked. I was making that shit up as I went along." He laughed and drew back a bit. 

"Now we just gotta do it that well two weeks from now." Frank said.

Gerard finally exhaled, not having realized he'd been holding his breath. 

"Right."

*

Gerard gripped the handle to the double doors of the rink with both hands, his fingers tightening around the cold metal. He took a deep breath, then another one. 

It was the first practice Gerard had went to alone since he'd met Frank. Today, it would just be him, his dad and his so-called "friends". It shouldn't have made him this nervous. But Gerard felt his stomach flip as he entered the building.

Everyone was crowded into the locker room, strapping on pads and stretching. Gerard grabbed an empty bench on the far end of the room and began rifling through his hockey bag for his jersey. 

"How's it hanging, Way?" Ray asked, appearing from behind a row of lockers. 

Gerard nodded and wordlessly gave him a wave. 

"I see your friend is MIA today" Ray observed quietly.

Gerard shrugged and said, "He's out of town."

Ray nodded in understanding. "Well, today should be particularly unpleasant. I heard someone say your dad isn't in a very good mood today. I bet he makes us do timed relays again. Hopefully I don't throw up this time."

"Well if you weren't so out of shape ..." Gerard teased. 

"Hey, whatever, I can still take you!" Ray said, lightly punching Gerard on his padded shoulder.

The locker room had emptied out now so they joined the rest of the group.

Gerard immediately felt uneasy when he spotted his father leaning in close next to Brendon as they discussed something. His father was using his hands a lot to get across whatever point he was making. He looked upset. 

His fathers eyes flashed when he saw Gerard, and he swore his gaze was going to burn a hole in his skin.

But he said nothing, so Gerard passed him and followed Ray out onto the ice. 

His fathers voice rang out and resonated off the walls of the room, and Gerard felt it do the same to the walls of his head. "Okay! Today, we're going for speed. You'll skate from this line" he said, gesturing to the line in front of the goal on the far end, "to this line." He pointed to the line at the opposite end of the ice. "I want each of you to beat your best time. No one leaves until they beat their time."

The team lined up on one end. His father stared intently at a timer in his hands for a second then said, "Go!"

The sounds of scraping blades echoed through the room. Gerard best time was the second fastest on the team, only second to a boy named Gabe, who had long, thin legs and never seemed to run out of breath. 

The problem was though, it had taken so much out of Gerard that day he had made his current best time. He wasn't sure he could match it, let alone beat it. 

As the team neared the other end, Gerard was the last to reach the line. His thoughts were too clouded to focus. "62 seconds" his father announced. Gerard didn't look up, but he could feel his father's gaze on him heavily. 

There was a beep and his father yelled "Go!" again. 

The team raced towards the other end. Gerard was, once again, last to reach the line. 

A few minutes later his father announced the time "59 seconds." He heard Patrick shout "Yes!" from the other end of the line. "I beat my time by one second!" He exclaimed, skating towards the gate to sit on the bench. 

By the time an hour had passed, half the team had joined him on the bench. A handful of other kids, including the biggest guy on team, a tall blonde boy named Bob, we're still racing back and forth alongside Gerard fighting to beat their time. 

Ray sat on the sideline and yelled encouragingly "Come on, you can do it!" He said it to everyone still on the ice but Gerard knew he'd meant it for him.

One by one, the rest of the team members beat their time. It was just Bob and Gerard now. Gerard hadn't looked up in a while. He didn't look at his father. He kept his eyes on the ice and the lines that he skated to and from.

"Go!" his father yelled once again, and Bob started towards the other end. Gerard felt his chest burning. He felt like he was going to pass out. He moved slowly. He wasn't even halfway to the other end of the ice, when Bob reached the line and his father announced his time. He hadn't heard what the time was, but he did hear Bob roar "Yes! Oh my god, thank you" as he skated towards the gate. 

It was just Gerard now. 

He felt like an ant and his father was a kid with a magnifying glass, looming over him, watching his every move. 

"Let's go, Gerard!" he yelled.

"I ... can't. I think I'm going to pass out" Gerard said between gasps.

His father shook his head. "No. Keep going. You're not leaving this ice until you beat your time."

Gerard sputtered and fell to his knees in the middle of the ice. He felt the eyes of the whole team on him now.

"Dad, please..." Gerard began. He tried to choke back tears. He didn't think he could even stand up.

"42 seconds." His father said the words tauntingly, sounding out each syllable. That was Gerard's time to beat. 42 seconds. 

The room was silent. 

"Coach, really, he doesn't look good. I think he needs to take a break" Ray protested from the bench.

"You stay out of it unless you want to join him" his father threatened. Ray was quiet after that. 

Gerard locked eyes with his father. His father opened his mouth, and he said only one word, as slowly as he could. "Go."

Gerard climbed to his feet. It took almost all of his strength just to do that. He felt his feet moving. Slowly, he reached the other end. His father didn't even say his time. "Go" he repeated.

Gerard kept moving even though he felt like he would collapse at any moment. Time seemed to all but stop completely. Seconds ticking by felt like whole minutes. Gerard's eyes we're fixed on the clock hanging on the wall. He barely noticed the sun going down, the sky turning blue-grey outside the windows. He didn't notice either as the watching crowd thinned out, only vaguely registering the sound of the front doors opening and closing a few times. 

The room was empty now aside from Gerard, his father, and Ray. Ray stood now, leaning over the barrier surrounding the ice, watching him. He gave Gerard an empathetic look. Gerard waved his hand, telling him he could leave. It was getting late. Gerard heard Ray sigh and a second later, the sound of the locker room door closing. 

It was just the two of them. 

Gerard inhaled deeply, and at the sound of his father's next "go", used every ounce of energy and pushed forward across the ice. He crossed the line and barreled into the wall. He looked up at his father.

"46 seconds! Close, but no cigar." His tone was cruel.

Gerard's legs we're starting to go numb. He couldn't take it anymore. He started towards the other end again. He didn't have anything left in him to give, yet his body moved. He pushed as hard as he could. His lungs ached and every inch of his skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat. He physically could not push his body to go any harder. 

As he flew across the line on the far end of the ice, he crashed into the wall again and crumpled to the ground. 

His father was quiet for a moment. "41 seconds. That's what I like to see." He said nothing else and silently exited the room, leaving Gerard alone. 

He lay in a heap on the ice. He didn't even try to move. He felt his hands shaking, his breath coming out in loud puffs as his chest worked hard, heaving up and down. The only sound in the room was his breathing.

As he attempted to stand, his feet slipped around in his skates from the sheer amount of sweat coating his skin. The walk to the locker rooms was lengthy and painful.

When he pushed open the doors, he was immediately shocked to see has father sitting on one of the benches, waiting for him. Gerard flinched when he saw that. 

He sat down and pulled off his skates, then tossed them across the floor.

"I know what you've been doing." His father's words caught him off guard. 

"I don't know what you're talking about" Gerard said uneasily.

"Save it. Brendon told me about your weird little ... _thing_ with that Frank kid" his father looked disgusted as he said the words.

Against Gerard's better judgement, he opened his mouth. 

"What, and you believe him? Brendon's full of it. I don't know what it is with him - I think he's always hated me, or he's jealous or something. You can't trust that kid."

"He showed me picture he took with his phone of the sign up sheet at the community center, with _your_ signature." his father said coldly. "I don't know what you thought you we're doing and I don't know what you would want with some stupid figure skating competition, but I don't really care. It ends right now."

Gerard opened his mouth to speak again, but thought better of it.

"Really, what was going through your head? Why would you want to put on some sparkly outfit and dance with that _freak_?"

He couldn't keep his mouth closed at that, though.

"He's not a freak." Gerard spat the words like blood.

"Well, it doesn't matter, right? No need to worry about it. He's off the team. And you're never seeing him again. I'm serious, if I see or hear anything about you hanging around that kid, I won't be this polite about it. No more. The championship's in less than two weeks and I'm not screwing around. Okay?"

Gerard didn't answer. 

"I said, 'Okay'!?" His father's sudden change in volume startled Gerard. Gerard nodded slowly. His father stood without another word and went to his office.

Gerard ran from the room, still in full padding and gear, then burst outside through the front entrance. He quickly filled his lungs with the frozen air, and held it in a little too long.

He felt unbelievably weak, and yet, he started running. He pounded down the pavement, leaving the hockey rink behind him. Trying to put as much space between him and that building, between him and what had just happened. 

His fathers words were bouncing around his skull like they were made of rubber. He could taste his fathers disappointment on his tongue as he ran. It left such a bitter aftertaste in his mouth.

Right now, he hated his father. But even more, he hated that he still cared about his opinion. He felt genuine dread that he had disappointed his father. And that pissed him off.

He needed to get as far away from that feeling as possible. 

*

Gerard should not have been walking up Frank's driveway. He shouldn't have had butterflies in his stomach as he started towards the front door. He shouldn't have felt a twinge of excitement as he rang the doorbell. 

He shouldn't have been there at all.

If he knew what was good for him, he'd listen to Ray.

"For once in your life, Gerard, just take my advice and just stay away from the kid." Ray had said. 

If he knew what was good for him, he'd put plenty of distance between himself and Frank.

The door swung open. 

"Hey, G!" Frank said, pulling him in for a hug.

Gerard couldn't keep the smile on his face from spreading until it hurt his cheeks. 

"How was the trip?" he asked.

"Fantastic. Amy was in heaven, so I'm happy. And, honestly? Those tea cups are hella' fun." Frank said, gesturing for Gerard to come inside. 

Gerard couldn't ignore the feeling in the pit of his stomach. Whenever he was near Frank, he felt like their was literal sunshine inside of him. It was a bit annoying, if he was being honest.

"That's great. Listen, Frankie, something happened while you we're gone. My dad knows. If I had any sense at all, I'd quit right now..." his voice trailed off.

"Well good thing you don't have any sense" Frank interjected.

Frank grinned. Gerard could feel the sunshine sloshing around in his belly. See? Annoying. 

Gerard sighed. "You're also, sorta, not on the team anymore. I'm really sorry, man ... It's probably my fault."

"Is that what that weird ass voice mail was? Someone left it on the answering machine. I think it was for my mom? And she's in the middle of a 48 hour shift, so I got to it before her." Frank said, shrugging. 

"What did it say?" asked Gerard.

"It sounded like your dad ... I think he said -." Frank paused then threw his voice to mimic Gerard's father, speaking in a deep throaty voice. "Oh, hello ... this message is for the parent of Mr. Iero. If you could inform your son that he's no longer on the hockey team, and please ask him kindly not to come to practice anymore, that would be great ..., thank you." Frank rolled his eyes. 

Gerard laughed. "That's great. We're you doing my dad, or Kermit the Frog?" 

Frank shoved Gerard roughly, and continued. "I don't even care, though. It's not like I'm passionate about hockey. You know what I am passionate about?" Frank paused then went to the window, his back to Gerard. 

"I'm passionate about skating. I'm passionate about my family, about my little sister. I'm passionate about my home - Jersey. And -" he paused again and spun around to look at Gerard.

"I'm passionate about you."

Gerard could feel his cheeks flooding with heat. He knew he was approximately the color of raw salmon right about now.

Frank stepped closer to Gerard and pressed his lips to his forehead. 

"Come on" Frank said. "Let's go put the finishing touches on our routine."

*

Gerard was beginning to think about their routine in his sleep.

He had memorized the order of the moves perfectly. He could do the whole thing backwards. The way he and Frank's bodies came into contact - when and where their bodies touched - with each different move was burned into Gerard's brain. 

Gerard's socked feet shuffled across the hall to the bathroom. The house was silent. Just as his fingers wrapped around the cold brass knob, he heard Mikey's bedroom door swing open.

"Morning" Mikey said. Gerard nodded at him. He was, again, surprised to see his little brother awake so early. 

Mikey watched Gerard for a moment, then said "Come take a walk with me."

"The sun's barely up. And it's freezing out. And I have to pee." Gerard said, turning away from Mikey and pushing into the bathroom.

Mikey sighed and then grabbed Gerard by the shirt sleeve, tugging him towards the stairs. "Just come on."

Gerard fumbled on his jacket and a pair of slippers as Mikey urged him out the front door and into the chilled morning air.

The haze of sunlight peeked over the bare trees at the edge of their property.

Mikey went down the steps and to the end of the driveway and waited for Gerard to follow. They started down the sidewalk. 

Mikey's breath hung heavy in the air as he spoke. "What's been going on with you?"

Gerard studied the dew clinging to the grass as they walked. He thought about his answer for a moment. "Dunno what you're talking about."

He felt Mikey's eyes on him.

"Well let's start with where you've been going so early in the morning on the weekends."

Gerard hesitated, which he was sure made him look even more guilty.

"There's this skating thing" Gerard said finally. Those four words felt like a confession. They rang out and Gerard looked all around him, expecting to see watching eyes and listening ears, judging him. But the street was empty.

Mikey was silent. "Like, figure skating" Gerard added, as if that would clear things up. He stopped and turned to Mikey, watching him intently, desperately searching his eyes for a reaction.

Understanding spread across Mikey's face suddenly, the tensed lines relaxing and warmth flooding his eyes. 

"Oh! I think I had heard something about that. That's why you've been acting so weird? Figure skating?"

Gerard felt the relief pump through his still veins. He let out the breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Yeah ... i guess. But Dad is completely against it. He flew off the handle. He banned me from doing the competition that's coming up, and from seeing my partner ..." Gerard's voice trailed off. 

He started walking again, quickly, keeping his eyes on the rising sun.

Mikey jogged to catch up to him. He rested a hand on Gerard's shoulder. 

"That's rough man. Dad's a dick. Just ignore him and find something else you like to do." Mikey said reassuringly. 

Gerard pursed his lips, and began to say something but stopped himself.

Mikey blinked.

"You're not still ..." Mikey began. He didn't finish his sentence, but he didn't need to.

"This is really important to me, Mikey" Gerard said finally. "Yeah, I'm still doing it. The competition's tomorrow." he continued. 

"Is it worth it, though? Do you know what Dad will do to you if he finds out?" Mikey asked, his eyes bulging a little bit at that last thought.

"Yes. It's worth it" Gerard said. The word's came out confidently, even as his hands shook.

 _He's worth it,_ Gerard thought. But he didn't say that.

Mikey nodded. 

"Well, okay then. You have to do what's important to you. And if you've made up your mind, and you really want to do this, then I support you. Always will." Mikey said. His words were soft and Gerard could tell he meant them.

Gerard grinned, then threw an arm around Mikey as they walked. 

"Thanks, little brother."

*

"I'm not wearing that."

Frank laughed at that. "Oh, yes. Yes you are."

"No way! It's not happening."

"I spent a month making these costumes, G. I _slaved_ over a sewing machine. And I didn't bring backup costumes! You're wearing it."

"Unless you are able to physically knock me unconscious, there is no way -."

"Gerard!"

Gerard let out a long sigh, longer than necessary. 

He went to the mirror on the locker room wall, holding the outfit by the hanger up to his body. He grimaced. 

In his hand was a dark blue, body con figure skating costume, complete with shimmery detailing on the front and white trim. Glittery sequence outlined swirls down the left side, wrapping around the torso.

Gerard held the outfit at arms length, as if even looking at the thing was embarrassing.

"Could you not have controlled yourself a little bit with the damn sequence? I'm just thankful you didn't have a Bedazzler handy."

Frank snickered. "Come on, blue really is your color. Try it on."

Gerard gave in and began removing his clothes, before finally pulling on the suit. It fit snugly. In fact, the fit was almost perfect. Frank zipped it up the back to Gerard's neck.

"Wow. You wear the shit outta that thing" Frank said, his mouth hanging open a bit.

Gerard felt his face darkening into shades of red.

"Stop it, I look ridiculous. You can't make me wear this. It's practically child abuse."

"Okay, one, you're older than me. And two -." Frank paused and made his eyes go huge and round while jutting out his bottom lip to make his second point. " _Please._ "

Gerard stared into Franks pleading, seemingly bottomless eyes. It was all over.

"God damn it." Gerard said, throwing his hands up.

"Yay! Thank you. Now, just a little bit of makeup, and we're ready to get out on that ice!" Frank said excitedly.

Before Gerard could even protest, Frank had the makeup in hand and had put back on that same puppy dog face.

Gerard sat with his eyes closed, feeling Franks hands move the makeup brushes across his skin. It tingled a little bit. Gerard had never worn makeup before. He knew Frank did, though, and he seriously hoped he knew what he was doing. 

"Can I open my eyes yet?"

"Just a second."

"Are you making me look like a girl?" 

"Shhh..." Frank said, placing a finger on Gerard's lips.

"Okay, now you can look" said Frank, holding up a hand held mirror a few inches from Gerard's face.

Gerard was surprised by how not-horrible it looked. It was subtle. Frank had put some dark blue around his eyes. Eyeshadow, he guessed. And a hint of charcoal grey eyeliner just under his waterline. There was also something pale and shimmery swept across his cheeks.

"I guess it looks okay" Gerard admitted.

"More like it looks fantastic" Frank corrected. He sat down on the floor in front of the wall mirror and began to do his own makeup, humming quietly to himself.

The sound filled Gerard's ears and reminded him of his own mindless humming when he was on the ice, by himself, in his own little world.

Gerard didn't realize he'd been staring until Frank called him on it.

"Like what you see? I'll let you take a picture, if you want" he said, grinning.

Gerard smiled sheepishly. 

After frank had slicked back Gerard's hair with a comb and some hair gel, he fixed his own. Then finally, he said "I think we're ready." They locked eyes and Frank gave Gerard's hand a gentle squeeze.

Gerard felt the nervousness creeping up his throat at those words. He'd be on display for a roomful of people to see, every move being scrutinized and every mistake being magnified by a hundred. It wasn't like practice on their pond. If Gerard fucked up, there would be a crowd of witnesses. 

Gerard couldn't remember ever being anywhere near this nervous for a game. It was different, somehow. If he messed up then, he'd let his Dad down. Maybe his team.

But if he messed up now, he'd be letting Frank down. 

The thought weighed heavy in his mind.

*

"Up next is the last team in our couples division" an announcers deep voice breathed into a microphone from some unseen vantage point.

"So if the team of Gerard Way and Frank Iero could please make their way to the floor, you're up next."

Gerard flinched at hearing his own name booming through this large room full of strangers, echoing off the walls of the community center.

His sweaty hands were wrapped around Franks, until he had to let go to lace up his skates. 

Sitting hunched over on a long wooden bench, Gerard could feel the crowds eyes on his back. He tried to ignored it. 

The community centers ice was smaller then and not as well taken care of as the hockey rink. But Gerard had always enjoyed skating somewhere new for the first time. So he focused on that, in an attempt to make his anxiousness turn to excitement.

Frank stood and helped Gerard to the end of the carpet, pushed open the gate, and stepped onto the ice. Gerard followed. 

For a moment they both just stood there. Then the lights in the room dimmed, illuminating the ice and Gerard truly felt like he was on a stage. 

Then the music clicked on. 

Frank had picked out the song, and they'd practiced to it a few times. But it felt like a silly song choice now, as the uptempo dance number rang out, cueing them to begin.

Gerard muscles froze for a solid ten seconds. 

But he forced his body into motion, and started with the first part of their routine, a large figure 8. Frank and Gerard skated in sync to opposite ends of the ice, then looped around to make the 8 shape. They timed it perfectly so they didn't quite meet in the middle, crossing paths with just a second or two in between.

Gerard didn't even have to think about the next few moves, running purely on muscle memory. Their bodies glided across the ice swiftly. Frank was the picture of grace and balance, his small form moving so effortlessly.

Gerard prepared for their next move as the song slowed and faded into a softer, piano-heavy couples dance number. It was the kind of thing you'd hear during the king and queens dance at Junior prom. Franks choice, obviously.

They met in the center and a spotlight poured down on them, as everything else went dark. Frank clasped Gerard's hands and they pressed their bodies together. Then they slowly moved in a traditional waltz. 

Frank had told Gerard about how his grandpa taught him to ballroom dance when he was younger. "He's the only partner I've ever had, and the only one I would ever take. When he died, I told myself I would never dance again for the rest of my life." Gerard had thought that had sounded incredibly dramatic and would have protested the idea when Frank suggested they incorporate it into their routine, had he not been so honored. 

Gerard placed his hand at the small of Franks back, and slowly dipped him towards the ice. Frank sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes, his body going limp. Then Gerard felt Frank tense up in his arms as he quickly brought him upright and spun him around. Gerard and Frank clutched one hand together at arms length. Leaning away from each other, they froze in position, ending that part of the routine. 

Breathing heavily from the effort, Gerard locked eyes with Frank. Gerard could see a burning excitement behind them. It was clear to Gerard that Frank really enjoyed this. Gerard had been feeling his exhaustion begin to weigh on him, but that observation gave him new energy.

The musics tempo picked up again, this time it was filled with the sound of bongo drums. 

Gerard knew what this meant. Their last move. The lift.

Frank skated to the far end of the ice. He turned around and stared ahead at Gerard, preparing himself. His eyes were dark and animal like.

Gerard thought back to the first time they had nailed this move. 

What had Frank told him to do? Gerard was desperately trying to call back his words. 

_What pisses you off? Focus on it. Use that focus and that anger and just put everything into it._

He could almost hear Franks voice ringing in his ears.

Focus on it. Focus on that anger.

Gerard closed his eyes and did just that. He thought about how unhappy he would be if he continued to let his Father make his decisions. How fucked up his life would turn out if he let his Father keep controlling him. 

He was a puppet. And he hated it. 

He felt anger swelling up in his chest, and he let it build up like he was stoking a campfire.

_Puppet._

The word felt like a thick fog inside his head. He was unable to see anything but that word. _Puppet._

Frank flew across the ice like he was ejected from a canon.

Gerard tensed up every muscle and bent his elbows. His spite and anger fueled him.

He was ready.

Frank lunged at him and Gerard quickly got a steady grip. He heaved Frank above his head and held him there. Gerard waited as Frank straightened out his legs and pointed his toes, holding his arms parallel to his body like a bird diving into water. Then Gerard slowly spun them.

Gerard expertly placed Frank back down. Gerard grasped Franks hand with his left and pointed his right towards the ground, one leg crossed behind the other. Frank was in a similar position, but with his free hand extravagantly reaching towards the ceiling, his fingers fluttering a bit.

The musics drum tempo had been speeding up, building more and more until it stopped suddenly as they froze in place and the spotlight shone down on them.

They both had huge, open-mouth smiles plastered on their faces. Gerard sucked air loudly through his teeth.

Gerard looked over at Frank, covered in a thin sheen of sweat and flooded in light. He was glowing, quite literally. 

The room went completely silent. Then the crowd broke out into applause. 

They simultaneously let out a breath as the ice went dark. 

The applause got louder as they exited the rink. The lights in the bleachers came on and Gerard forced himself to peer up at the faces cheering for him. He made eye contact with a few people, before averting his gaze. 

They clumsily pulled off their skates and Frank quickly led Gerard past the crowd into the locker room. 

He tugged on Gerard's costume sleeve excitedly. "Man, we did it! We were perfect" he said enthusiastically. He was grinning so big. He jumped up and down a little bit, still grasping Gerard's sleeve. 

Gerard felt that stupid sunshine in his gut again. 

Seeing how happy he had made Frank, made him happy.

"You were great out there, Frankie."

"You too! Just - _everything_ was perfect, y'know? I'm so pumped!" Frank's voice was loud like an overexcited child, and it filled the locker room. 

Just then, the double doors opened and a woman pushed into the room. Gerard knew who it was immediately.

He had seen Franks mom in a few framed photos around his house, but it had never really occurred to him that he had in fact never really met her. 

"Baby, you were so great!" She exclaimed, crossing the room and pulling Frank in for a hug. Amy ran in behind her, joining their hug. "You guys must have practiced so much!" his mother continued. 

Gerard gave them some space. He went to the opposite end of the lockers and began tugging off his costume. He overheard their conversation, though.

"I'm so proud of you!" he heard her say. Gerard knew that Frank making his mother proud was a huge part of the reason he'd wanted to do this in the first place. He knew Frank had been patiently waiting to hear her say those words. And he knew it was a mission accomplished when he heard Frank reply, "That's all that matters mom", and his voice came out strained and distorted from the tears that Frank no doubt was trying to hold back.

Gerard smiled to himself.

He listened to the quiet, intimate conversation for a moment. Gerard was truly happy for Frank. But he couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. Gerard wished his mother had been there, and the feeling made his chest hurt. He stifled it.

"Hey - G, get over here!" Frank yelled from the other end of the room. 

Gerard peeked around the locker and hesitated before slowly joining them. He felt out of place. Here was this close family, speaking lovingly to one another, and then here was Gerard. All alone, no one to congratulate him, and naked from the waste up with a glittery blue suit half pulled off and hanging from his torso.

Gerard waved a hand and said "Hello."

"Oh, so this is Gerard! I feel like I already know you, honestly. Frank never shuts up about you. _Never._ " Franks mother said, grinning.

"She's kidding!" Frank said quickly, shooting her a look. 

Gerard smiled back. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Iero."

"Where's your family, Gerard? No one came to see you?" she asked. 

Gerard wasn't quite sure what to say. He just shook his head and said, "No."

She nodded and gave him a sympathetic look. 

Then Franks mother suddenly pulled Gerard in for a hug.

Gerard wasn't expecting that. Frank leaned in, wrapping his arms around the both of them and lastly, Amy did the same. Amy only came up to Gerard's stomach, so she was more or less hugging his legs. But it was the thought that counted. 

The announcers voice was loudly muffled from the other room, proclaiming that the first, second and third place for each category would be announced soon.

As they made their way out of the locker room, Franks family rejoined the crowd. 

Frank and Gerard took a seat on the bench beside the other contestants.

A few minutes later, they listened to the announcer rattle off the winners for each category. Couples division was last. 

As the announcer read out the first name for their category, Gerard felt the pressure of Franks hand squeezing his. 

Third place went to a couple that neither of them knew. A tall blonde girl in a pink dress costume and a skinny brown haired boy in an outfit of the same shade stepped out onto the ice to claim their medals. A man in a tracksuit handed them each their own, and the boy almost slipped on the way back. 

"Second place in couples division goes to the team of..." the announcer began. He paused, attempting to build suspense. "Gerard Way and Frank Iero."

Gerard felt emotions mixing in his head like a cocktail. Part of him wished they had gotten first place, but a bigger part of him was too happy that they'd even placed to think about that.

The crowd cheered.

"Second place, G!" Frank whispered loudly in Gerard's ear. It was barely audible over the sound of the audience. 

Frank pulled back then. His eyes went to his mother and sister in the crowd. They were standing up and waving their arms, cheering as loud as they could.

Frank leaned back in and whispered something else.

"Thank you."

*

"Honestly, just by crowd reaction, I think we should of had them. That red haired boy almost took the girls arms off with that one move."

"I don't know, I think they did pretty good. I mean, they didn't get first place for nothing." Gerard said, shrugging.

"Yeah, I guess." 

The sun beat down on them as Frank and Gerard walked the familiar path home toward the hockey rink, yet Frank still had to zip his jacket up to his throat to keep out the chilled wind. 

"Either way, second place is pretty great for a couple of newbies like us, me specifically." Gerard said, fiddling with his hood. "I'm just happy I didn't get booed off the ice."

"Yeah man, totally. My mom was so damn proud, she's got that silver medal hanging on the wall in the den." Frank smiled as he said that.

Gerard suddenly wondered what this meant for him and Frank. After all, the reason they'd started hanging out in the first place is because Frank needed a partner. Did that mean that now that Frank didn't need him anymore, Gerard would see a lot less of him?

The thought made Gerard shudder a bit. He suddenly couldn't imagine how he'd fill his days without Frank. 

"You nervous about the 'big championship game' tonight?" Frank asked, in a low, mocking voice. "I might have overheard your dad mention that it'll decide your future. So, uh, yeah you might wanna prepare yourself!" Frank laughed.

Gerard rolled his eyes. In truth, he hadn't really thought about the game much, but it wasn't by accident. He had been putting forth serious effort to not stress about it. They were already heading to practice, so he'd have to face it soon enough. But he just wanted these last few minutes of peace

Gerard shook his head and was quiet.

Frank took that as a sign to change the subject.

"Hey, you should come with me for dinner at my aunts next Saturday. It's in Jersey. I can show you some of my old stomping grounds. I mean, it won't be a ton of fun, but I gotta go. My family always gets together a lot around the holidays and its sorta mandatory."

Gerard had barely even noticed that it was, in fact, around the holidays. Christmas was just around the corner. But he was more focused on the fact that Frank had just invited him somewhere, even if it was just to a family dinner. It meant that Frank liked the idea of Gerard meeting his family. And it meant that Frank wanted to spend more time with him. 

Gerard felt sudden relief. Maybe he was more than just a skating partner to Frank. God knows Frank was so much more than that to him.

Gerard realized he had too big a grin plastered on his face for such a modest invite. It was dinner at Franks aunts, not the Queens. He needed to tone it down a little.

"I'd love to." Gerard said, and he meant it.

"Rad. My family's a little weird but uh, ... if you like me, I'm sure you can handle them."

Gerard laughed. "Gotcha."

The sound of running footsteps on the pavement came up behind them suddenly. 

"Hey, guys! Wait up!" Ray's voice rang out breathlessly. 

They both stopped and turned to look at Ray as he caught up to them. Ray placed a hand on Gerard's shoulder, and wheezed loudly. 

"Gerard, Man, I'm glad I caught you. I think your Dad's looking for you, or he will be soon." 

Gerard's felt a mixture of panic and confusion overtake him. He stared wide-eyed at Ray, waiting for an explanation.

Ray was busy practically coughing up his lungs on the sidewalk.

"You know, you're pretty out of shape for someone who's supposed to be an athlete," Frank remarked, smirking a little bit. Ray scowled up at him, still hunched over and trying to catch his breath.

When he finally did, he spoke very quickly.

" _Someone_ , I'm not sure who, saw you and Frank at your skating competition thing. And I don't know, I guess word got around a little. I heard some guys on the team talking about it. And I think Brendon got to your Dad. More specifically, I heard them saying that your Dad was _pissed_. I think you should probably get home."

Gerard had no words. He felt his mouth hanging open. He could feel his heart beating against his rib cage. He could feel the pounding of his pulse in his head. But he couldn't speak.

"Shit. G? Are you alright?" Frank said, squeezing his shoulder. "Hey - hey, talk to me!" He snapped his fingers in Gerard's ear, and waved a hand in his field of vision.

Frank turned to Ray. "What do we do?" Ray shrugged, then he grabbed Gerard by the shoulders, and leaned in, looking him directly in the eyes.

"Gerard - can you hear me? Are you okay?"

Gerard blinked. Then he met Ray's eyes.

"Am I okay? No, Ray, I'm not." He paused and chuckled under his breath. "My father is going to kill me. Literally kill me. Fuck, what am I supposed to do?" Gerard sat down on the curb and put his head in hands.

Frank and Ray sat down on either side of him, Frank throwing an arm around Gerard's shoulder. They we're silent for a moment. "It's gonna be okay, G ... if nothing else, hey, you can come live with me." Frank said, his voice soft and comforting.

Gerard stayed quiet, keeping his eyes on the ground.

A few minutes later, Ray stood finally and said "I'm really sorry, man. I should probably get home, though. And you too, okay? Avoiding it's just gonna make it worse. And make your dad angrier." Ray's face read like he wished he hadn't said that last part.

"What about the game?" Gerard asked.

"I dunno, man. We can play without you. Just take care of yourself, okay?" Ray said. He turned and yelled "Good luck", then started down the sidewalk.

Gerard turned to Frank. "God, this is the worst timing too! If I miss this game it's just gonna add to it and make him even more pissed off. I'm dead. I am literally dead."

Frank could think of nothing to say that would comfort Gerard so they sat in silence for a little bit. 

"He's probably right, though. Better just get it over with. " Frank said finally. "You know what, I bet it was Becky. She's probably the one who told people we competed. I bet she was mad that her and her fancy french partner didn't even place. Fuckin' Becky."

Gerard looked at Frank and suddenly he wondered if this would be the last time he would see him for a while. He knew his dad was incredibly pissed. And Gerard knew he might not be able to get away with sneaking out anymore.

He threw his arms around Frank suddenly and they stayed like that for a while. 

*

Gerard's hands shook as he fidgeted with his keys in the front door, making it impossible to get the key in the damn hole. He heard footsteps behind the door suddenly, then the lock turned and it swung open.

There was a subtle hint of panic on Mikey's face. Gerard stepped inside warily and closed the front door behind him. He followed Mikey to the island in the kitchen and pulled up a stool. 

"Where's Dad?" Gerard asked, his eyes darting around the room. His voice broke a little bit.

Mikey sighed. "I - I'm not sure."

"He's not here?"

Mikey shook his head.

Deep lines of worry were set into Mikey's young face. 

Gerard felt uneasy. "You have no idea where he went?"

"No - well, I don't know. I heard him talking on the phone. Then he left without saying anything. I think you're friend might be in ... trouble."

"What? Mikey, what do you mean?" Gerard demanded.

"You're friend - Frank, I think? The kid you we're skating with."

"Yeah, okay, what about him?" Gerard said frantically. 

"I have no idea who Dad was talking to. But ... I think I heard him say 'I'm gonna do something about this Frank kid, once and for all.' At least that's what it sounded like." Mikey said, biting at his lip nervously.

Gerard felt his stomach drop. He suddenly couldn't breathe.

He looked at Mikey, his eyes wide with fear. 

"And you have no idea where he could have went?" Gerard asked, his voice coming out tiny.

Mikey shrugged, helplessly. 

Before Gerard knew what he was doing, he was moving. He was going to the front door. 

"Where are you going?" Mikey yelled from the kitchen.

"I don't know - I have to find Frank" Gerard said, slamming the front door behind him. He looked around wildly.

 _Okay,_ he thought. _Just have to find Frank. Find. Frank._

*

Before Gerard had told his body what to do next, he was running down the sidewalk, his limbs flailing. He wasn't sure where he was going, but his brain was like a compass and Frank was North. 

The sound of his sneakers hitting the pavement all but faded away until all he could hear was his heavy breathing and his heart beating in his ears. His lungs burned but he moved like he was on autopilot. Gerard rounded the corner at the end of his street, and he knew it was about a ten minute walk from here to Frank's house. 

He kept moving.

Soon Frank's tall white home came into view, perched on top of its hill. The sun had dipped behind it, casting an eerie glow around the house. Gerard made it to the top of the driveway before practically collapsing into the grassy lawn. 

He dragged himself onto the wooden porch and smacked a hand against the door, leaning all his weight against it. He rang the doorbell repeatedly with his other hand. When the door swung in, Gerard almost fell in on it. He caught himself at the last moment. 

The Iero's nanny stood, hands on hips, looking Gerard up and down. 

"Can I help you?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. Amy sat on the couch with a coloring book in one hand, and two crayons in the other, using both crayons at once. She looked up and smiled, dropping the crayons and waving a hand at Gerard.

"Is Frank home?" Gerard asked. He tried to act casual as he scanned the living room.

She shook her head. "No. No, actually he should've been home by now." She peered over at the clock on the mantle and frowned. "Guess he's running late."

"Okay. Will you please tell Frank to call Gerard as soon as he gets home?"

The woman nodded. Her mouth hung open a little bit. Gerard must have been quite a sight to see. He was sweating now with his hair sticking to his forehead, he was out of breath and his eyes were wide and nervous like an owls. 

He turned away from the woman and he heard the door slam behind him.

Gerard wasn't really sure what to do at this point. There wasn't much else he _could_ do at this point.

* 

Gerard walked in his front door and quietly shut it behind him. He was surprised to see his Dad's car still absent from the driveway. Mikey sat in the arm chair in the living room. He watched Gerard with wary eyes. 

"You find your friend?"

Gerard shook his head wordlessly, dropping onto the loveseat. He shoved his hand into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his cell phone. He scrolled through his contacts and clicked 'call' on Franks. He didn't expect anyone to answer.

Each ring made Gerard's chest feel tighter. 

It went straight to voicemail. 

"Hey! This is Frank ... leave your name and number at the beep, y'know, if you're into that sorta thing." The familiar voice filled Gerard's ears. There was a faint chuckle at the end that was cut off by the beep signaling to leave your message. 

"I'm sure he's okay." Mikey said quietly. "I mean, I don't _really_ think Dad would ..." his voiced trailed off. Mikey fell silent again. 

Gerard didn't reply. He dragged his body up the stairs and onto his bed. He felt lifeless. He stared up at the stucco on his ceiling and began tracing pictures in his mind in them. Most of them looked like fireworks.

Gerard thought about how the all-important, make-or-break-you championship game was going on right now. And here he was, the captain of the team, lying here while his world fell apart. No matter how hard he tried, Gerard couldn't seem to stop letting people down. Even right now, he was letting his team mates down. And he really could not care less. 

He went back to his phone and back to Franks contact. He clicked 'new text message' and stared at the blinking line on the blank screen. "Please call me." He typed. He hit send and rolled over on his bed, peering out the window. 

The wash of colors faded from orange and pink to faded blue and gray. The sun was going down. Gerard suddenly felt so tired. He closed his eyes and felt he could easily fall asleep right now.

Before he did, he sent one more text to Frank. He put the screen in front of his face and typed slowly. Each letter felt like a kick in the stomach.

"I'm sorry."

He hit send and closed his eyes again.

*

"I heated you up some dinner." Mikey's voice said from somewhere in the staticky darkness of Gerard's bedroom. His words startled Gerard awake.

Gerard blinked against the dimness, his eyes adjusting slowly. The lime green light from his bedside clock cast a glow on Mikey's face, standing near the doorframe and holding a plate of food. The clockface read '8:20'.

"Thanks. Ah, fuck, my head hurts." Gerard placed a hand to his temple and took the plate of food with the other. He set it on the bedside table. He didn't have much of an appetite. 

Mikey watched him for a moment then disappeared in the dark hallway. Gerard could hear the water running. He returned with a glass of water and two aspirin. "Here" he said, offering them to Gerard. 

Gerard took them gratefully. 

"Dad still hasn't come home." Mikey said, his eyes on the dark sky outside Gerard's window. 

"What? He's still gone?" Gerard felt a pang of nervousness in his stomach again. 

"Yeah. I keep calling him. I dunno." Mikey shrugged, his lips in a tight line. 

Gerard fumbled around on the bed in the darkness for his phone. He found it and the bright light lit up the whole room. Gerard shielded his eyes and waited for them to adjust again. 

He felt his stomach drop. Nothing from Frank. 

Just a voicemail. It was from Ray. 

Rays voice sounded apologetic almost. "Gerard. Man, I uh - I gotta tell you something. Before you hear it from someone else. Something happened. Your friend, Frank - he's hurt. He's hurt real bad. It was some guys from the team ... your Dad put them up to it I think. Either way, I'm done associating with anyone who was involved. I know Franks your friend, and it's totally not cool what they did. I -." Ray began to ramble and Gerard had zoned out at this point.

Rays words filled his ears but he wasn't making sense of them. 

_Frank - he's hurt. Real bad._

Gerard felt sick to his stomach.

"Anyway" Ray continued from the phones speaker. "I just wanted to be the first to tell you. You're one of my best friends, man. I'm not sure, but I think they took him to St. Lowell's - ." Gerard hung up the phone before Ray could finish. 

"Come on" Gerard said, grabbing Mikey by the shirt sleeve. "We're going to the hospital."

*

"No - _Iero_ , not Lero. He should have just been admitted." Gerard's voice was frantic and loud in the empty hospital waiting room. 

"Oh, okay. I'm sorry, sir. Are you a relative?" The woman behind the desk pushed her glasses up her nose with the eraser of her pencil. She looked questioningly from the paper form she'd had him fill out to Mikey and then back to Gerard. The rain had just picked up right before they arrived and they were both dripping. They looked like rats that had just been washed in from the sewer.

Gerard shook his head. "No, no, but I'm a close friend. I really need to see him."

"Well, sir, I'm sorry. But it says here -." She pointed an acrylic finger nail at something on the computer monitor that Gerard could not see. "He's just been admitted to the E.R. Only immediate relatives can see him. If you'd just have a seat, I'll let you know if anything changes in his condition."

"Could you at least tell me what's his 'condition'? I haven't been told anything! How bad is he hurt? Is it just a sprained ankle? Is he near death? Just tell me something, for God's sake!" Gerard was practically yelling at the woman now.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Sir, all I can tell you is that, yes, he's in critical condition." She looked down at the screen, studied it a little bit and frowned. "Someone beat that poor boy within an inch of his life." She shook her head, sighing.

Gerard felt like he needed to sit down when he heard that.

"Is there anything else I can do for you boys?"

"Yeah, actually, his mom works here. Is there any chance I could talk to her? She's a nurse - last name Iero."

The woman typed at a few keys on her computer. 

"It looks like she's in the middle of her shift. But -." She looked sympathetically at the young dripping boys standing before her. "I'll see if I can find her."

"Thank you" Gerard said, and he followed Mikey over to the waiting room chairs. Gerard tried to ignore the squishing sound as he sunk down into one. 

Dr. Phil was playing on a T.V mounted near the top of the wall opposite them. He could hear a young couple on the screen bickering about something but he paid no mind to it. He turned towards the window and stared intently at the drops of rainwater on the glass, the black night sky as their backdrop. The orange glow from the street lamps in the parking lot were reflected in the tiny droplets.

Gerard couldn't believe that Frank was in the hospital because of him. Because of his stupid Father. Because of his inability to just listen to his stupid Father and stay away from Frank. 

That because of Gerard, Frank was in a hospital bed, bleeding and half-dead probably.

Gerard could feel another headache coming on.

The double doors that allowed access past the waiting room pushed open suddenly. Gerard recognized Franks mother. She had a harrowed expression, and looked sick and exhausted. 

Gerard rung his hands nervously and stood as she approached them. 

"Ms. Iero, I'm sorry to bother you. I just wanted to know if you had any updates on Frank? Or if you could tell me anything, really ... they won't tell me anything." Gerard frowned. 

Franks mother sat down in the chair beside Gerard's, and Gerard followed. She took Gerard's hand in hers. Her eyes welled up with tears and she blinked them away quickly. 

She opened her mouth like she was about to speak, but then closed it as if she was unable to. She shook her head.

"They left him in the street." She choked out, fighting back more tears.

The words felt like a punch in the throat. He waited for her to explain, though she didn't need to.

"I don't know. I don't know why anyone would want to hurt Frankie." Her hands shook as she spoke and she gripped the arm of the chair to steady them.

Gerard stayed silent, listening.

"They're not even a hundred percent sure he's gonna make it through the night." Her voice broke and she shut her mouth like she had given up on speaking. 

Gerard placed his arm around the now sobbing woman. There was nothing he could say that would improve upon the silence, so he didn't try. 

_They left him in the street._

Gerard imagined Frank laying in the gutter, his body mangled and bloodied. Struggling for breath and in pain as the ones responsible - people he had thought of as _friends_ at one point and his _own fucking father_ \- just left him there. Left him there to die. 

He saw red. His vision blurred around the edges and he clenched his jaw. 

Ms. Iero thanked Gerard for coming to see how Frank was, then returned to work.

Gerard turned to his brother. "You should get home, Mikey."

"You're not coming with? What are you gonna do?"

Gerard placed a hand on Mikey's shoulder and was completely honest with his little brother. "I have no fucking clue." He stood then and went to the exit. "But I can't just sit here and do nothing."

*

Gerard really _wasn't_ sure where he was going. He aimlessly walked through town. The streets were empty and the rain had stopped. The only sound was the occasional dripping of rainwater against various surfaces. 

He guessed he was looking for his Dad. He couldn't just sit in that hospital waiting room anymore. He had to move his body, had to feel like he was doing something. 

He found himself standing in front of his front door a few minutes later. He got it unlocked and all the lights were out. He hadn't expected his Dad to be there, but he had to start somewhere. 

"Dad?" he shouted into the quiet, dark house. 

No response. 

He turned around and promptly shut and locked the door again behind him. He stared out onto his dark lawn. It was eerie at this hour. 

Gerard thought about all of the places his father might have been. 

_Shit,_ he whispered to himself. Suddenly Gerard was sure he knew where he could find his father. 

He began jogging down the sidewalk now, with a destination in mind. 

There was a bar in town that his father used to disappear to some nights when his parents were still married. He hadn't done it in years, but it was Gerard's best guess. 

The Drunken Fox, a small place just on the edge of town. 

Gerard ran until his chest ached and didn't stop until he was doubled over beneath the neon sign with the orange fox holding a mug of beer. The sign buzzed quietly. 

Gerard pushed through the old wooden door and scanned the dimly lit room. It was half empty, but the stools in front of the bar were mostly full. A few of the booths near the back were occupied by people half asleep and drunk and nearly falling out of them. 

He spotted his Dad then, among that crowd. Near the back and leaning up against the wall with a cigar in his mouth and a shot glass in either hand. He swayed back and forth, spilling half of whatever alcohol was in that shot glass onto the floor. He laughed loudly at something one of his drunken acquaintances had said. 

Gerard crossed the room quickly. 

He felt the heat in his cheeks and the anger rose up in him. He was the reason Frank might not make it through the night. He was the reason Frank was in a medication induced coma right now. He was the reason Franks mother sat before Gerard, sobbing. Him.

His Father didn't even seem to notice him approaching. 

Gerard lunged forward suddenly and shoved his dad into the wall hard, knocking the shot glass out of his left hand. It shattered on the floor, shards of glass mixing with caramel colored liquid. His father's eyes bugged out of his head. 

"Hey, what the fuck's your -."

Gerard cut him off, and turned the same question on him. 

"What the fuck's _your_ problem?" Gerard yelled into his fathers face. 

His father was just now seeming to recognize him. 

"Gerard -."

Gerard leaned in real close, his breath in his Father's face as he spoke.

"I know what you did. Frank's practically on fucking life support. You nearly killed him." 

Gerard's father avoided meeting his gaze. "I don't know what you're talking about." His denial was so weak, it made Gerard sick.

Gerard was suddenly so unafraid of his father. After all these years, here he was. Drunk and weak. And pathetic. 

Gerard pulled back and laughed darkly. 

"Sure you don't. Suuuure, okay. Only, you do. You and I both know that. You sicked a couple of guys from the team on him and they beat the living shit out of him, because of a fucking _figure skating competition._ " Gerard practically spat the words at him. 

His father looked Gerard in the eye now. "I did it for you." he said quietly.

"Excuse me?" 

"I did it for you. Come on, Gerard!" Suddenly his father was loud and animated, waving his hands about. His words slurred. "I did it for you! That kid was weighing you down, and you know it! And I got rid of him. For you."

"I never asked you to!" Gerard cried out. The room went silent as the words exploded from him. "He was my friend. He was my -." Gerard sank to his knees, and put his head in his hands. He sobbed without tears, his body racking. 

"I'm - I'm sorry, kiddo." his father said quietly. He threw back the shot in his right hand, his fleeting moment of clarity ending as he fell back into his drunken stupor. He was completely out of it again. "You know, I don't think I'll ever win a championship ..." His voice trailed off and he dropped his unsteady body into one of the booths.

Gerard said nothing. He stayed unmoving for a good ten minutes, letting the sounds of the bar filter into his head and muddle his thoughts. It was exactly what he needed. 

He left the bar without so much as looking back at his father. 

*

The first thought in Gerard's mind when he opens his eyes to the bright light of morning is Frank. 

Gerard fell asleep in his clothes, jeans and sneakers included, on top of his still made bed with the blanket still tucked neatly around the mattress. And Frank fell asleep in a hospital bed.

Gerard couldn't think right now.

He needed to see Frank.

Gerard's father was passed out on the couch in the living room. Gerard snaked a finger in his jacket pocket and fished out his car keys. 

Gerard and Mikey both knew that driving their fathers pickup truck was all but forbidden, but Gerard didn't care. 

After what his father had done, Gerard had lost all respect for him. He wasn't afraid of him anymore.

He slid into the passenger seat and ran a hand over the smooth, grey leather. Mikey watched him through the kitchen window, his eyes bulging a little bit. Gerard ignored him and pulled out onto the street.

The drive to the hospital was short but long enough that Gerard had to flip on the radio to fill up the silence. 

The woman at the front desk smiled as he approached, and Gerard, knowing how disheveled he looked, figured it was probably something she'd programmed into her brain to be successful at her job. "Can I help you, sir?"

"Yeah, a friend of mine was admitted yesterday. Frank Iero. I was wondering how he was doing? And if it was possible for me to see him?"

The woman looked to the computer in front of her and typed in a few things. She nodded slowly, and looked back to Gerard, still smiling.

"Yes, he's stable now. He's not awake, but visiting hours are until 5pm and you can see him if you'd like."

Gerard felt sudden relief at the same time as apprehension. He knew he wanted - no, _needed_ \- to see Frank, but he didn't know if he could face him. It wasn't like Frank would be awake and yelling at Gerard, telling him it was all his fault. But that wasn't what Gerard was worried about. He was afraid to see him lying there, hurt. He was afraid of dealing with all the guilt and fear he knew he would feel.

"You can sign in and have a seat, we'll call you back in a few minutes and you can see your friend."

Gerard scribbled his name on the sign in sheet and handed it back to her.

The waiting room in this wing, the main part of the hospital, was much bigger then the one in the E.R. The chairs were spread out and TV's hung from different places in the room. It was empty except for one woman in a floor length floral dress sitting at the far end, gazing out the window. Gerard found a chair in the first row and kept his eyes on the front desk.

He could hear the low voices floating from a nearby TV behind him. It sounded like the Jerry Springer Show. He could barely make out the conversation, something about a guy claiming that he was definitely _not_ the father. He drowned out the voices and focused on the sound of his foot tapping on the linoleum. 

He had almost completely zoned out when the woman at the front desk spoke and startled him a bit.

"Mr. Way, if you want you can head up there now. Room 208, second floor." She gestured to the elevator doors on the opposite wall.

Gerard nodded and thanked the woman.

His fingers shook as he pressed the up arrow button. A moment later, he heard a ding and the shiny, metal doors parted. 

He stepped in and pressed the round button with the '2' on it and it lit up. His stomach was doing somersaults. 

The doors opened on a narrow hallway with fluorescent lighting, lined with numbered rooms. 

"208" he mumbled to himself. 

He read the numbers in his head as he walked. _212 ... 211 ... 210, 209 ..._

208.

The door was closed, so Gerard took a step forward and hesitated before rapping on the door a few times. 

There was no response. Gerard gently turned the knob. It was unlocked.

He pushed into the room. Gerard felt his heart stop in his chest. His hands went cold. 

Frank laid in the bed on the far end of the room, under the window. He was unmoving besides the gentle rise and fall of his chest, and drenched in sunlight. 

The room was devoid of all other life besides that, no nurses or patients, and Franks mother was nowhere in sight. 

Gerard took a step closer.

Tubes ran from Franks nose and into a loud machine beside his bed. He was hooked up to an I.V and had bandages wrapped around various parts of his body. Franks head rested against a pillow but was supported by a neck brace. His left arm also appeared to be in a sling and the bulk on his right leg beneath the sheet suggested it was in a cast. 

Gerard was horrified. He approached the bed slowly.

Up close, Gerard could see the bruising spread across Franks body. The discoloration on his closed lids, the black eye, the busted lip, the scraped up knuckles. Gerard wondered if that had been from Frank trying to defend himself. 

Gerard almost collapsed right there on the cold, tile floor at that thought.

He sat in the chair beside Franks bed. His hands were shaking again.

His voice came out low and unsteady, almost a whisper.

"I am so ... sorry, Frankie. I'm so fucking sorry."

Gerard couldn't hold back the warm tears that brimmed in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. He leaned his head against Franks still arm, sobbing. 

"I'm sorry" Gerard repeated, barely audible.

Gerard was so angry suddenly, so frustrated. Angry at himself for letting it happen, angry at his father for doing it. He felt so helpless. 

He gripped the arm of the chair, his finger nails digging into the turquoise faux leather. He felt the animosity boiling up in him.

 _It's all my stupid fathers fault_ , Gerard thought. 

Why couldn't he have just minded his own business? 

Gerard felt sick thinking about spending another minute living under _that monsters_ roof. He had to get out.

He pressed his lips to Franks forehead, got back in his fathers truck and left the hospital behind him.

*

"Get up."

"Wh-" 

"Get the fuck up."

Gerard shoved his sleeping father. He rolled over on the couch and looked up at Gerard, confused.

"Leave me alone, I'm sleeping" he said, and attempted to roll back over.

Gerard could still smell the alcohol on his breath.

"No." He shoved his father again, harder this time.

His father laid still and Gerard heard his snoring start back up a moment later.

Gerard crossed his arms.

"I'm taking Mikey to California. We're going to live with Mom."

His dad rolled back over suddenly, looking Gerard in the eye now.

"You don't go to your mother's 'til the Spring."

"I know. But we're going now."

His father sat up. "Listen, I know you're mad, but I'm still your legal guardian and I still have custody of you right now. You're not 18 yet and Mikey's nowhere near it, so you're sure as shit not - ."

"I'm not staying here. You're - you're fucking crazy. And I'm not leaving Mikey behind."

His father rubbed his temples and sighed. "Gerard, I'm sorry. Okay? I'm sorry that what I did hurt you. But what was I supposed to do? You think you'll get a scholarship that'll get you into a good college if you spend all your time _figure skating_? If you we're to continue screwing around and spending all your time with _that kid_? You we're messing up your future. You wouldn't listen and I had to do _something._ " 

Gerard felt sick again.

"What we're you supposed to do? _Really?_ You're supposed to be my father. You're not supposed to put a hit out on a teenage boy."

Gerards father laughed at that. "Don't you think you're being overdramatic? I mean, Christ, it's not like I hired a sniper to assasinate him. I just had a few kids rough him up a bit."

"Rough him up?! He's in a fucking coma!"

Gerard hands we're balled up now and shaking from anger. He took a slow, deep breath, his rib cage stretching like an accordion as he pulled the air into his lungs. He flexed his fingers.

"This - this is not even what I came to talk to you about. I'm just letting you know that we're leaving. And if I have any say in it, it'll be permanent. You're fucking toxic. I don't want to be here and I don't want Mikey here." Gerard paused for a minute. "And when I tell Mom what happened, I think she'll agree with me."

His father looked desperate now, his brow furrowed. 

"Gerard please, just hear me out. If you want to go to your mom's a little early this year, then okay. If you want some space after ... what happened, I understand. That's fine. But please, ... you boys are all I have."

"With all due respect, Coach -." Gerard leaned in closely to his father, looking him squarely in the eyes. "I don't give a shit. You took what mattered most to me, so it's only fair." 

His father stared wide-eyed at Gerard, his mouth hanging open.

Gerard was pleased with himself. 

"You can go back to sleep now."

*

Seven days. 

It had been one whole week since Gerard had went to see Frank.

He couldn't bare the thought of seeing him like that. He couldn't force himself to go, no matter how guilty staying away made him feel.

But Frank's mother had left Gerard a voicemail telling him that Frank was awake now. And he was asking for Gerard.

Gerard rested his head against the cold aluminum wall of the hospital elevator. As it rose, so did Gerard's stomach in his throat. 

The doors opened and he hesitated as he walked down the hallway, even though he knew where he was going. 208, just at the opposite end.

The door was wide open, natural light pouring into the hall. 

Gerard took a deep breath and poked his head into the door frame.

The windows we're open, the wind gently blowing the curtains. The room was bright and fresh smelling due to copious amounts of flowers on various surfaces in the room. Most we're yellow and Gerard recalled Frank mentioning that it was his favorite color.

Franks mother sat at the edge of his bed. She spotted him before Frank did.

"Oh, Gerard! Thank you for coming. It's nice to see you." 

Franks lids flew open. He didn't lift his head, but his eyes we're on Gerard, a stupid grin spreading across his face.

It was physically painful for Gerard to see how lit up Frank was when he saw him.

Franks mother stood and patted the bed, gesturing for Gerard to sit down.

"He's been asking for you since he regained consciousness." She chuckled to herself. "I'll give you two some time." She said, leaving the room.

Gerard stepped up to the side of the bed. Frank still looked pretty beat up. One eye was still bruised and swollen shut a little bit.

"G?" Frank croaked, his smile widening.

"Yeah, Frankie. I'm here." Gerard clasped his hand around Franks and squeezed it gently. 

"I'm alive!" Frank laughed. "Well, barely. God, they really fucked me up good." Even as he said that, Frank had the biggest, stupidest grin on his face. There was that annoying sunshine again - right in the pit of Gerard's stomach.

Gerard smiled back weakly. 

"And I missed you, man!"

Gerard wasn't sure how to respond to that. He felt a fair amount of guilt for Frank being in the hospital. He was certain it was mostly his fault Frank was here. Yet here Frank was, missing him and shit. Gerard didn't deserve it.

"I missed you too, Frankie. Look, I am so fucking sorry for what happened -."

Frank cut him off mid apology. "Don't be. 'S not your fault."

"Maybe not directly, but in a way, yeah, it kinda is. I should've listened to my dad. I should've listened to Ray. I should have - I don't know, done _something_." 

"What could you have done?" Frank asked, looking at Gerard as if he really wanted to know the answer. He furrowed his brows, waiting for a response.

"I - I don't know. I just feel like I fucked up. I feel like I'm the reason you're in here." Gerard stared at the floor.

Gerard was sure that Frank was weak, but when he grabbed Gerard's arm suddenly, it was with a surprising amount of strength. He pulled Gerard down close to his face. 

"Hey - cut that shit out. You and I, whatever this is - was not a mistake. All of this, everything, even that stupid competition - none of that was you fucking up." Frank spoke intensely as his eyes bored into Gerard's. He pulled him closer. "It's not your fault."

A long moment passed and Frank released Gerard's arm. 

Gerard sat down and was silent at first. He didn't know what to say, so he changed the subject.

"Me and Mikey are going to California. Basically, I told my dad to fuck off. I can't live with him anymore, not after what he did to you ... we're going to stay with my mom."

Gerard paused, staring down at the floor again.

"I want you to come with me."

Frank didn't answer. The silence was loaded and Gerard couldn't bare it. He looked up questioningly at Frank. 

Franks expression was pained. "G, ... I can't do that."

Gerard tried to swallow the lump in his throat. 

"Why?" he whispered, so low it was barely audible.

"I can't leave my family. I gotta take care of Amy. And my mom, too."

"They can come too! Really. It'll be fine. The more the merrier." Gerard bit at his lip nervously. He knew he sounded desperate, but it was only because, well, he was fucking desperate. 

"G, ... I can't do that. I can't ask them to uproot their whole lives again, especially when Amy's just starting to make friends." 

"She's six. She can make new friends. I can't leave you behind, Frankie."

"Look, even if I _could_ stomach doing that to my family, my mom would never go for it."

"Then it'll be just you and me, then."

"I can't. I can't just go M.I.A on them like my dad. I can't leave Amy. I'm sorry, G."

Gerard gave Frank a look that could only be described as pleading.

But he didn't say anything else. He knew the conversation was over.

*

Gerard's phone lit up to reveal yet another missed call from Ray. 

Gerard guessed that until he started answering, Ray probably wouldn't stop calling.

He sighed loudly. He gave in and clicked 'call back'.

It rung twice before he picked up.

Rays loud voice boomed through the speaker of Gerard's phone. "Hey! Gerard, I'm glad you finally called me back. I know you've been dodging my calls lately, which is understandable, but -."

"What do you want?" Gerard cut him off. "I'm not really, um, interested in being social with anyone from the team anymore, considering what happened ..."

"Right. I get it. But I just wanted to let _you_ know that I've cut ties with everyone who was involved. Really, I've only seen them at practice. So it's, y'know, been strictly business."

Gerard was silent, so Ray took that as a sign to continue.

"I'm really sorry about what happened. It shouldn't have went down like that. But me and you've been friends for years ..."

Gerard sighed.

"I know, Ray. I don't blame you."

Again, Ray filled up the silence. 

"So, I heard your friends doing okay, ... Right? He's doing better?"

"Yeah, yeah he's doing alright. He's awake now."

"Good, good. That's great. Look, if you're not busy tonight you should come over, man. We could have a movie night. Take your mind off things."

A distraction did sound great right about now.

"Alright, alright. But I'm picking the movie this time. No more 'Robocop 3', or whatever it was you picked last time."

Ray laughed. "Okay, agreed."

*

"I genuinely don't believe you. You did not say 'I don't give a shit' to your dad! _You_ , who was afraid to tell your dad that you were actually terrified of bugs when he got you that ant farm for you sixth birthday. _You_ , who fucking displayed that thing in your room so he'd think you liked it, even though it gave you nightmares."

"Dude, I swear to God. I said it right to his face."

"Yeah, yeah, okay. I'll believe _that_ when I see proof."

"Like, I'm sorry I didn't have a tape recorder on me, okay? I'll try to remember that next time."

Ray laughed at that. "You want anything while I'm up?"

Gerard shook his head. "Nah, I'm good."

Ray stood and left the room. Gerard could hear him bumping around in the fridge.

The movie had been on pause for the last hour. It was something about a British spy - some kind of James Bond knock off. The first twenty minutes hadn't really held Gerard's attention. So they just talked. It was nice.

Rays living room had a dim, blue tint cast over it from the DVD player pause screen. It made Gerard sleepy.

"So anyway," Gerard continued, leaning his head back and projecting his voice towards the kitchen. "He didn't really say anything after that. And Mikey, more or less, didn't really care when I told him. He likes it better in California, anyway. He's got more friends there, so he's all for making it permanent. I talked to my mom too, and she says she thinks we can work out the legal stuff and get her full, year-round custody."

Ray returned with a can of soda and dropped back down onto the couch. "That's great, man. It sounds like you'll be a lot happier in California, away from your dad. I'm gonna miss you, though, and so will everyone else. For the record, you were the best captain our team's ever had. We got demolished at the championship finals. And it was because our fearless leader was absent, ya know."

Gerard frowned and ignored that last part. "I'll miss you too, Ray. There's a few people here that I'm really going to miss..."

Gerard stared at something across the room but didn't appear to actually be looking at it. He was lost in thought. 

"You really love him, don't you?" Ray said suddenly.

The words snapped Gerard back to reality.

"What?" Gerard asked, but he knew exactly what Ray meant.

"Frank. It's, uh, pretty obvious, man."

Gerard purses his lips. "I - I, um ..."

"It's okay, you don't have to explain yourself to me. But ... we _can_ talk about it. If you want to."

Gerard nodded warily. 

The room was silent and Ray looked at Gerard, eyebrows raised, as if he was waiting for him to say something.

"I - uh, I do. I love him." Gerard said quietly.

"Does he love you?" Ray asked.

"Um, I'm not sure. I sorta asked him to come with me. To California ... and he said no."

"Right. Well I'm sure that doesn't mean he doesn't care about you."

Gerard nodded again. "Yeah, I know. I'm not sure what it means for me and him, though."

"If you guys really love each other, I'm sure you can figure something out. People who are in love always do." Rays voice was, for the first time in a long time, soft. 

"I don't want to leave him, though. It's gonna hurt so fucking bad, Ray." Gerard put his head in his hands and Ray patted him on the back.

"It'll be alright, man." Ray said. Gerard could tell Ray was bottoming out on his well of relationship advice. 

Gerard sighed. So much for a distraction.

"C'mon," he said, reaching for the remote. "Let's finish this shitty movie."

*

Gerard had a habit of avoiding things. Another two weeks had passed since he last visited Frank. 

Frank's mom had texted Gerard a few times, giving him little updates. 

_"He's off the I.V drip!"_

_"He's up and walking around now!"_

_"They took his arm out of the sling today!"_

She'd also mentioned that Frank really wanted to see him again.

"Frank's asking for you again, think you could drop by after school?"

Gerard either replied with a few words or ignored the texts all together.

The last time he saw Frank, he'd told Gerard he couldn't come with him. Gerard couldn't bare to drag it on any longer. He needed to cut his ties with Frank as quickly and painlessly as possible. So he had avoided him all together. And it was borderline unbearable.

But today was finally the day they we're leaving.

"Cab's out front." Gerard's father said, poking his head into the den where Mikey, Ray and Gerard sat. Mikey and Gerard were all packed and ready to go and Ray was here to see them off.

Their father said nothing else. He wordlessly disappeared and his slow, heavy footsteps could be heard heading up the staircase. That summed up pretty well how their father had been these last two weeks, since they made their plans to leave.

"Bye, Dad!" Mikey yelled, to no reply.

"Alright, c'mon." Gerard said, standing up and slinging his bag across his shoulder. "You got everything?" he asked Mikey.

Mikey nodded. They had several other bags waiting by the front door. "Can you give me a hand?" Gerard asked Ray. Ray grabbed a suitcase and a duffle bag and they made their way out to the checkered yellow cab parked in the driveway.

The cabby popped the trunk and they filled it with their luggage. Gerard slammed it shut then, and leaned in the open drivers side window, speaking softly over the humming of the engine. "Just a minute, okay?"

Ray clapped a hand on Mikey's shoulder. "See ya, kid." Mikey, a man of few words, nodded appreciatively and climbed into the back of the car. 

Gerard sighed. "I'm gonna miss you, man."

Ray pulled him in for a hug. "I'm gonna miss you, too." Then he playfully, but forcefully enough to probably leave a bruise, punched Gerard on the shoulder.

When there was nothing else to say, Gerard gave Ray a half-smile and a wave of his hand before following Mikey into the cab. 

The cab backed out of the driveway and the man in the front seat spoke for the first time.

"Where you boys headed?"

The man had short-cropped copper hair and facial stubble. He wore big round glasses and peered at his passengers through the reflection of the rearview mirror.

"Gerald R. Ford International Airport." Gerard answered, drumming his fingers on the leather seat.

Gerard leaned his forehead against the cold window, trying to numb his thoughts. The early morning's rain had left the world blurring outside the window looking washed out. He focused on the blue-grey blur being mirrored in the reflection of a tiny raindrop on the glass.

Gerard felt a knot in his stomach. He knew it was coming up.

Just around the corner, he knew they would pass St. Lowell's. They would pass the hospital where Frank was, and that would be it. It might be the last chance he would ever have to see him.

The hospital came into view then.

"Stop."

"Huh?" The cabby eyed Gerard questioningly through the mirror.

"Stop the car. Pull in to the hospital."

The man did as instructed and pulled in front of the main entrance.

Mikey shot Gerard a confused look. Gerard leaned in close and whispered, "I just need to do something first. I'll be quick. Promise."

The woman at the front desk recognized Gerard as he approached. "Ah, you again! Here to visit Mr. Iero?"

Gerard nodded. 

She smiled and said, "Go on up, sweetie."

On the elevator ride to the second floor, Gerard realized he'd had no idea what he was going to say. And, even more alarmingly, he realized there really was nothing _to_ say. He just knew he couldn't leave this town without saying goodbye to the most important part of it.

As he made his way down the hallway, a familiar voice floated from an open door at the end. Franks voice. 

Gerard peered around the door frame of room 208. Frank sat on the edge of the bed, talking on the phone with someone. He was animated as he spoke, using his hands even though the person on the other end of the conversation couldn't see him.

Gerard took the moment and tried to remember everything he could about it - tried to save it like a still frame in his mind. How healthy Frank looked compared to the last time he saw him. How he had a genuine smile on his face. How cute he looked in that hospital gown. How he was looking directly at Gerard now, who was peeking around the door frame like a small child playing hide and seek. Shit.

"Uh - yeah, yeah that's great. Look, Grandma, I'm gonna have to call you back." Frank hung up the receiver. Gerard stepped into the room.

"Hey." Gerard said cautiously.

Frank watched him for a moment then finally said "Hey yourself."

Gerard wandered over to the window, looking down on the parking lot where he could see the cab parked with the engine still running. He spoke with his back to Frank.

"We're on our way to the airport. Just wanted to stop in and say goodbye."

Frank was silent so long that Gerard wanted to turn around and look him dead in the eyes - study his face for any clues of what he was thinking. But he fought it, keeping his eyes out the window. 

"Oh."

Gerard gave up and whipped around to look at him. "Yeah."

Frank gave him a weak smile. "Well, hey, I'm happy for you. You'll do great in California." He paused, looking down at his hands. "You know, Doctor say's I should be outta here in ten days. I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to sleeping in my own bed. It's little shit like that that you don't even think about until you're missing it."

"That's great, Frankie." Gerard sat down on the edge of the bed and took Franks hand into his. 

Gerard couldn't help but wish he could be there with Frank when he got to go home. Make the day special, maybe even spend it at their pond. He shook the thought from his head.

There were so many things Gerard knew needed to be said. So many things he wanted to. But he said none of them.

He squeezed Franks hand gently for a moment before pulling his away and folding it in his lap. They sat in silence. 

" ... Well, Mikey's waiting down in the taxi. I should probably get going."

Frank nodded, his eyes on the floor.

"Oh yeah, yeah. Sure."

Gerard stood, jaw clenched.

He wanted to hug Frank. He wanted to so bad. But his plan was to 'cut ties as quickly and painlessly as possible', so.

"Bye, Frankie."

Gerard left the room, with a feeling that must compare to what you feel when you climb out of the burning wreckage after a car accident.

He could hear Franks voice from behind him, so low it was almost as if he'd been talking to himself.

"Later, G."

*

Summer always had a way of making Gerard feel hopeful. An entire season drenched in warmth with no school and all the time in the world. Summer was the promise of something big, something incredible. Something that's worth waiting for even though you didn't know you'd been waiting for it.

It was the first day of June and Gerard's high school graduation was a week behind him. More or less, he was loving California. Loving the sun, loving seeing the friends he'd seen off and on for years, loving how easy it was at home with just himself, his mother and Mikey. 

Hell, he'd even started skating again. The small coastal beach town he was now a resident of didn't have a rink per se, but it did have a place to skate at the local mall. Sure, his view was a Lady Footlocker, but when he started skating, it was still just him and blades against ice. It still cleared his head.

Almost everything in Gerard's life was perfect. Almost.

"Hey, you comin' down to the beach?" Mikey asked.

"Huh?" Gerard stirred awake. He had fallen asleep in the sunbaked cab of his friend Bert's pickup truck on the ride to the beach. He squinted at the bright orange sunlight beating through the windshield and bathing him.

"Yeah, I'll meet you down there."

Gerard shuffled across the sand in his flip flops. He was mildly embarrassed to wear them, but there wasn't too many other practical options for getting around a place with so much damn sand.

He spotted the group tossing a frisbee back and forth near where the water lapped at the shore.

Bert, along with Quinn and Jepha, we're just a few of the friends Gerard had made the first summer he'd stayed with his Mom, years ago.

"Hey, catch!" Quinn yelled, sending the frisbee sailing in Gerard's direction. It landed at his feet and he chucked it towards Mikey, where it rebounded off a palm tree. 

"Hey what kind of a throw was that?" Mikey shouted across the beach. 

Gerard ignored him and dug his heels into the sand and sat down. He watched where the waves splashed up onto and salted a collection of flat, black rocks. 

In the approximate six months since Gerard had came to California, he had spoken to Frank only once. 

It had been a phone call. A painful one. Just two weeks after he'd left Grand Rapids. He hadn't said much and neither had Frank. But even just the sound of his voice hurt to hear. It was like reopening a wound. So he'd suggested they exchange letters instead.

His reasoning had been "It's so old-fashioned and cute, don't you think?" And of course Frank had agreed and was in fact real jazzed up about the idea. But in truth, Gerard just couldn't deal with hearing Franks voice on a regular basis. Opening that wound so often.

So letter writing it was. 

But Gerard never actually got around to writing him a letter. Maybe it was pure laziness, maybe it was lack of things to say or maybe it was lack of knowing how to say what he _did_ want to say. Either way, something had kept him from doing it.

And now it was nearly half a year and a dozen attempts to forget all about Frank later. 

There was a sudden whistling sound as the frisbee came out of nowhere to smack Gerard in the side of the head. 

"Fuck, ow! Who threw that!?"

Gerard's eyes scanned the beach to see three sets of hands pointing to Jepha. 

"Um, sorry!" 

"We're you aiming for my head?"

Jepha laughed and shrugged. "If I had been, it probably would of landed about ten yards in the wrong direction. I suck. Sorry, though."

"Eh, it's alright, don't worry about it."

Gerard had crossed the beach and could see Jepha's face had turn the faintest shade of red. 

"Hey, Gerard, why don't you go for a swim with me?" Mikey asked. 

"You know I don't know how to swim ..." Gerard said, eyebrows raised. 

"Okay, then a knee-deep wade then?"

Gerard shrugged. "Um, alright then. Sounds fun." 

He followed Mikey down to where the sea foam spilled onto the beach and they walked til the water sloshed around their knees.

"You know, Jepha likes you I think." Mikey said.

Gerard was genuinely surprised by this statement. "No, he doesn't."

Mikey's eyes flicked between Gerard and Jepha - Jepha who stood on the beach, leaning against a palm tree, watching them.

"I - uh, I think he does." 

Gerard shrugged. Truthfully, he didn't even care if Jepha liked him.

"Hey, don't screw around with him. You know him and Bert are like this -." Mikey twisted his index and middle finger together to demonstrate his point. "If you break that kids heart, there's no way Bert'll lend us his truck for that road trip. Oh and, I mean, also 'cause Jepha's a nice guy."

Gerard rolled his eyes. "I'm not gonna break his heart, geez. I only have interest in being his friend."

"Alright, alright. I'm excited, though. Just me, you and the open road. Sunshine, some good tunes, some bad gas station food. The American dream." Mikey said, grinning. He took a few steps deeper into the water. "And going home to see some old friends should be nice. Tying up loose ends."

"What loose ends could _you_ possible have? You're, what, fourteen?"

"Hey, shut up! I have loose ends! I'm a complex person!" Mikey said with a laugh. He splashed water at Gerard. 

"Quit it! That shits cold!"

They were both laughing now and splashing enough water to soak through their T-Shirts. 

"Hey, not on my fuckin' leather seats! In the back, both of you." Bert yelled across the beach as they packed up their things. 

Gerard and Mikey climbed into the back of the pickup. Gerard spread out on the truck bed and let the sun dry him.

Mikey was right though, about tying up loose ends. Their upcoming road trip to Grand Rapids was the perfect opportunity to do just that. 

*

Gerard tugged open the metal door that was practically melded shut. A chunk of chipped red paint fell loose from the door and landed on the white hot cement. Gerard rested his forehead against the cool inside of the car window.

He spotted Mikey rounding the corner of the tiny gas station, holding up a finger and stepping inside to return the bathroom key.

This was the first building they'd seen in miles. They we're somewhere in the deserts of Nevada - the last hour of driving had been nothing but a two-lane road between dusty, flat planes edged by rocky terrain. Nothing but blinding sunlight and unforgiving, dry heat that surrounded the tiny air conditioned-filled bubble that was Bert's pickup.

Even with his head pressed against the cold glass, Gerard could still feel the suns heat baking the back of his neck. He climbed into the drivers seat and pulled the door shut just as Mikey made his way towards the car. 

"It was nice of Bert to let us borrow his truck and all. But man, this thing really is a piece of junk." Mikey said, putting all his effort into getting the rusted door shut all the way. 

Gerard frowned. "Yeah. It's better than our non-existent vehicles, though."

"Guess that's true. How many more miles 'til Utah?" 

Gerard spread the map out on his lap, and squinted intently at it, trying to make sense of it. "Looks like about 40."

"I can't believe we have to use, like, an actual paper map. What are we, cave men?"

"I couldn't get my hands on a GPS, okay? The map works just fine."

Gerard pulled back onto the road as Mikey fiddled with the radio.

"Dammit. All there is is static out here."

"We're in the middle of the desert. What do you expect?"

Mikey sighed loudly and twisted the knob until the low hum of a staticky country song floated through the speakers. Just enough to fill the background silence.

*

The moon hung high over the rest stop parking lot, illuminating it while also casting an eerie glow over it. The sky was cloudless, starless, and a vibrant navy blue.

Gerard pulled into a spot in the vacant lot. Mikey, eye lids drooping, leaned his head against the window. Gerard was exhausted too. The clock read 2:03am.

"Okay, I'll sleep for a few hours, and we'll get back on the road first thing in the morning. We should get there late tomorrow night." Gerard said.

Mikey mumbled something before closing his eyes.

"Um, before you go to sleep, can I talk to you about something?" Gerard asked quietly.

Mikey remained unmoving but parted his eye lids slightly. "Go on."

"There's, uh ... certain people that I haven't talked to in a while ... certain people I'm nervous to see again. Certain people that I'm not sure what I'll say when I do see them. You know where I'm going with this. Do you, y'know, have any advice?"

Gerard was surprised by the fact that he'd even brung this up with Mikey, but he desperately needed to talk to someone about it or his head was going to explode. He truly didn't even nowhere to begin when it came to what he would say when he saw Frank.

"Just to be clear, are 'certain people' Frank?"

Gerard raised his eyebrows and stared at Mikey, his silence serving as an answer to that question.

"Right," Mikey began. "Well, the only advice I have is this: ask yourself, when's the next time you'll see this person? If the answer is 'probably not for a very, very long time', then you need to fuckin' say what you need to say. Even if you have to stand in front of them like an idiot for an hour while you try to find the words, just say it. Either that, or when this weekends over, we'll be heading back to the West Coast and you'll be regretting everything you didn't say."

Gerard was stunned into silence for a moment. It was good advice. Advice that he'd listen to if he was smart. 

"Thanks, little brother."

"No problem." Mikey said, shutting his eyes again.

Gerard shut off the engine then, and leaned his head back. He took in the heavy silence that filled the cab of Bert's truck.

He sat up suddenly. "Hey, where did you get all this good relationship advice anyway?"

Mikey was asleep before he could give his sarcastic response.

*

They we're twenty minutes outside of Grand Rapids now and the knot in Gerard's stomach seemed to be manifesting into a real thing now - he was imagining thick, coarse rope tied into a knot the size of a baseball, just floating around in his stomach.

At least that's what it felt like. 

The sky was dotted with stars and the familiar road they sped down was nearly empty. Gerard longed for bumper-to-bumper traffic. 

Mikey had dug out an old mix CD from his bag and was now blasting 'Hot N' Cold' by Katy Perry as they flew down the street, the wind whipping through the open windows.

He enthusiastically sang along to the music. _"You're wrong when it's right, it's black and it's white! We fight, we break up! We kiss, we make up!"_

He pointed to Gerard then as if the next part was his solo.

Gerard laughed, shaking his head. Mikey was unphased, and continued singing, yelling _"You don't really wanna stay, no! But you don't really wanna go-o!"_

The song ended as they pulled up to a stoplight and Gerard gratefully took the opportunity to turn down the volume until it was just a buzz in the background.

"Hey grab my phone and text Ray, will ya'? Tell him we're close."

Mikey did as asked. Gerard felt the knot in his stomach tighten as they passed a sign announcing that they were "now entering Grand Rapids".

"Nice to be home, huh?" Mikey said quietly.

"Yeah," Gerard said, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Nice to be home."

* 

It was almost midnight when they pulled into Ray's driveway. 

"Hey, guys!" Ray said, smacking a hand on the hood of the beat up truck. "Where'd you get this clunker?" he asked, inspecting the car a little bit closer. 

"Borrowed it from a friend." Gerard said, climbing out of the pickup. "It's great to see you, man."

"Yeah, yeah, you too. And little Mikey as well. Who's not so little anymore, huh?" Ray said, looking Mikey up and down as he gestured for them to follow him inside. "What are you now, about 4'5"?" he teased.

Mikey rolled his eyes, but his previous burst of energy had faded and he looked like he was about to fall asleep on his feet. "Um, where am I sleeping?" Mikey asked, his lids drooping.

"You can take the guest room. It's upstairs, third door on the left. And Gerard can take the couch, if that's okay with you?" Ray said, eyebrows raised towards Gerard.

Gerard nodded and asked, "You sure you're parents don't mind us crashing here for the weekend?"

"Nah, they don't care. They're asleep before 9 o'clock, they won't even notice you're here." Ray said with a wave of his hand.

"Well, I think I'll retire to the guest room then. Night" Mikey said, slowly climbing the stairs. 

Gerard dropped down onto the couch. Ray was close behind, flipping the TV on and switching off the lights before he sat down. An infomercial flashed across the, lighting up the room. Ray turned the volume down and turned toward Gerard. 

"So how's California?" he asked. 

Gerard thought about how this moment reminded him of that last night he stayed with Ray. The TV on in the background, and nothing but a much-needed, honest conversation between friends. It felt like a lifetime ago.

"California's awesome. I've got some great friends there, it's nice and sunny for a majority of the year and it's been really nice to spend some time with my mom."

"That's great, man. Glad everything's worked out for you guys."

"Yeah, plus, there's a place to skate right down the street from my house. I really missed it. That reminds me, how's the team doing?" Gerard asked.

"I mean, we really aren't the same with out you, but we have been doing pretty good lately." Ray said, grinning. "6 consecutive wins! Well they we're more like domination's, really."

"That's good to hear." Gerard said with a laugh.

"Yeah, you know, your dad's really changed. I think you leaving with Mikey was really a wake-up call for him. He sobered up even, I think. And I have to admit, I think his attitude change has had a positive effect on the team. You gonna see him while you're in town?"

Gerard was silent. He had not planned to see or even discuss his father during this trip. In fact, he was a bit hesitant to even be in the same city as him, even if just for the weekend. 

"I - I don't think so." Gerard said quietly. 

"You sure? He really seems like a changed man."

Gerard felt somewhat betrayed. Surely he couldn't be a 'changed man' after just six months. "Did my dad, like, put you up to this or something?"

"No! I swear. I'm just saying, he's gotten his act together it seems. And, if it were me, I'd want to give him a chance. You only get one dad." He said, shrugging.

Gerard sighed. He knew Ray was right. This trip was not supposed to be about his father, it was about visiting old friends and, as Mikey had put it, 'tying up loose ends'. But his father, more or less, _was_ a loose end. And making amends with him couldn't be the worst thing in the world. 

"I'll think about it." Gerard said, ending their discussion by turning up the TV volume and flipping the channel to a late night showing of some 80's action flick. But he knew the second he let himself even consider it that his decision was already made. He would see his father.

*

Gerard sat in the passenger seat of Ray's silver Nissan, the engine humming softly. He drummed his fingers nervously on the dashboard. 

"Come on, man, you gonna go in?" Ray asked.

Gerard shrugged. "I don't know. I think I've changed my mind. I'm not so sure if I want to see him."

"Well, it's your choice. But Mikey's already in there, don't you think you should go in too?"

Gerard sighed for as long as his lungs would allow it. "Fine." 

He climbed out of the car and made his way up the drive way. He approached the front door of the house he used to call home just six months ago. It felt like it had been much longer than that since he'd called it that, seeing as he felt so out of place.

He knocked on the door once. 

"Come in!" he heard a voice shout from inside. He did as instructed. 

He found his father and brother sitting in the den. His father smiled hugely when Gerard stepped into the room. 

"So nice to see you!" He said, standing up and slowly crossing the room to Gerard. He cautiously embraced Gerard in a hug. 

Gerard did nothing to return the hug, keeping his arms at his sides. He said nothing and took a seat beside Mikey. 

"I've missed my boys!" Their father exclaimed. 

Gerard shifted nervously in his seat. 

"Y'know, I was just telling Mikey, tomorrow will mark five months sober."

He kept his eyes on Gerard, waiting for a positive reaction Gerard supposed, but he gave him none. 

The room was silent so their father continued. "And, Gerard, I've really been meaning to talk to you. I know you haven't been answering my calls, and I understand, but I'm glad we finally have this time to talk. I'd like to apologize, if you'd let me."

Mikey took that as his cue and said, "I'll go get us some drinks.", before leaving the room. 

Gerard was somewhat annoyed at Mikey for leaving him alone with their father. 

"So, may I?"

Gerard nodded finally.

"I'm so sorry for the way I acted. What I did to your friend was inexcusable. And I couldn't even see that at the time, not with the way I was drinking. Most of all, I'm sorry that my actions pushed you and your brother to leave. And I'd be able to sleep a lot better at night knowing you can forgive me."

His fathers voice was pleading and his words were honest. 

Gerard was quiet for a moment, deciding what he should say next, if anything. Part of him felt like his father didn't deserve it. Didn't deserve Gerard to take pity on him and give him a clean conscience. But a bigger part just wanted this to be behind him. All this grudge reminded him of was Frank, hurt in a hospital bed. It made his chest hurt. 

"I forgive you."

A smile spread across his fathers face, tears welling up in his eyes. "Oh, Gerard, that's great to hear. You and you're brother are the most important thing in this world to me, and knowing how much I hurt you has hurt me as well. Thank you."

Gerard smiled a little bit at that. "Don't mention it."

His father stood with his arms out, inviting Gerard in for a hug. Gerard warily accepted.

There was a long drawn out "Awwwwwwwwwww" from the doorway, where Mikey stood with a tray full of lemonade. 

He grinned as Gerard flicked him off.

*

Gerard mindlessly surfed through the stations on Bert's trucks barely functional radio. He flipped it off when he saw Mikey walking down the driveway before climbing into the truck. 

"You should of came inside, they wouldn't have minded. And you're just wasting gas running the AC out here." Mikey said.

"Uh, that's okay. They're your friends. Plus, I don't know how entertaining it would be to hang out with a bunch of 14 year olds."

Mikey sighed and pushed his glasses up the bridges of his nose. "15 year olds."

"Right. Sorry." Gerard said with a laugh. 

"Where are going next? Back to Rays?"

Ray had unable to spend Gerard and Mikey's last day in Grand Rapids with them, as he had prior obligations to his job as manager at Burger Hut. So they'd spent the day driving around town, visiting what friends they hadn't already seen.

And there was only one person Gerard had not yet saw. 

Seeing Frank was at least half the reason Gerard had wanted to take this road trip in the first place. And now that he was hear, and they were halfway through their last day in town, Gerard had been unable to bring himself to see Frank.

Every time they had drove past the huge white house on top of that hill, Gerard felt a white hot burning deep in his chest, like someone was putting out a cigarette on his heart. He knew he just needed to it, like ripping off a band-aid. He knew he had to see Frank. 

"Uh, yeah, but there's one more place I want to go first."

*

Gerard felt the familiar pang of nervousness twisting in his stomach. He studied the large, hilly green fields that lined Franks street as they drove. He spotted the small creek he was so used to seeing on his walk home with Frank, now completely thawed and surrounded by bunches of colorful wildflowers. 

He felt sick as his eyes settled on the house, perched where it always was, overlooking the driveway and street below. He turned down the dirt road and the car inched down it, bathed in the buildings shadow. As they got closer, Gerard noticed a large truck parked in the grass. The sides of the truck were painted a vibrant yellow and read in big red letters "Sanders & Son Moving Co."

The car came to a stop a few yards before the end of the uneven dirt driveway. "I won't be long. You can just stay in the car if you want." said Gerard. 

Mikey nodded and Gerard climbed out of the truck. For a moment, he just stood there. 

The front door was open slightly, but there was no one in sight and Gerard could see no other cars besides the big yellow moving truck. Its back hatch was open and various boxes and pieces of furniture were inside. 

Just then, the front door swung open. Gerard froze as he spotted someone step onto the front porch with a huge box in tow, covering their entire face and upper body. The person lowered the box so they could see where they were walking. Gerard could see it was Frank. His heart beat felt more like a hummingbird trapped in his chest, its wings flapping wildly. 

Frank didn't notice him at first, his eyes on the porch steps so he didn't trip. But when he looked up, his eyes went wide and he halted. The box slid from his fingers and fell to the ground with a crash. Whatever had been in there sounded as if it had just shattered. 

They both just stared at each other, unmoving. Gerard finally lifted a hand and gave a halfhearted wave. 

"Hey, Frankie."

Frank was still completely still, just standing there. Gerard wondered if he had broken him. But finally, he spoke. 

"I - Gerard, what are you doing here? I mean, I didn't even know you were -." His voice trailed off and they were met with silence once again.

"Yeah, we're just visiting." Gerard said, jerking a hand towards where Mikey sat in the car. 

Frank peered through the windshield and waved at the small boy with glasses who he had never officially met. 

"Sorry I forgot to write." Gerard said quietly.

Frank laughed and finally moved from the spot where he had been at a standstill and started down the steps toward Gerard. "Don't worry about it." He said, waving a hand as dismissal. "So how long you guys in town for?"

"Uh, just until tonight." Gerard said, swallowing hard. 

"Oh." Frank said. He kneeled beside the box and began sorting through its contents. He pulled out the shattered pieces of what appeared to be a vase. He tossed the shards into the grass.

"So what's with the moving truck?"

Frank stared blankly up at Gerard. "Oh! Man, we're going back to Jersey! They're renovating and reopening the hospital my mom used to work at, so she's getting her old job back. And all our family's there, so, yeah - I'm going home!"

"That - that's great, Frankie." Gerard said weakly. 

So Frank was going back to his old life. His old friends, his old home. Back to the way things were before he'd ever met Gerard.

"Yeah! I'm so excited. This place sucks, y'know - without you here." Franks voice was low, his eyes on the ground.

Gerard didn't respond to that, because, what would he say? What could possibly be said? Frank would continue his life in New Jersey as if this whole mess in Grand Rapids had never happened - as if he and Frank had never happened. And Gerard would go back to California and their paths would never cross again.

Frank folded up the top of the box and carried it to the truck. "Hey, i'm almost done with these boxes. If you want, we could go visit our pond one last time. Just me and you, like it used to be. I mean, not exactly like it used to be, seeing as its actually a pond now, and I doubt we can find a way to skate on it ... but still. It'll be fun." He said warmly. 

He watched Gerard tentatively, waiting for his response. 

Gerard wanted to say yes. He wanted more than anything to spend these last few hours with Frank. Just the two of them and their little space that was just for them - it would be perfect.

But that was exactly why he couldn't do it. It _would _be perfect. And it would be just another memory that would make this hurt more. Just another thing to make this harder.__

__Gerard smiled. "Thanks, Frankie. But I think I'll have to decline. I just wanted to come see you before we left."_ _

__"Well, alright, man. Thanks for taking the time. Glad you didn't forget about me."_ _

__That hurt Gerard to hear. Frank thought he had forgotten about him when the opposite was the truth. Gerard hadn't went a day without thinking about Frank since he met him._ _

__Gerard cleared his throat. "'Course not."_ _

__Yet again, they just looked at one another in silence._ _

__Suddenly, Gerard recalled the advice Mikey had gave him, half asleep in a rest area parking lot._ _

___"Ask yourself, when's the next time you'll see this person? If the answer is 'probably not for a very, very long time', then you need to fuckin' say what you need to say. Even if you have to stand in front of them like an idiot for an hour while you try to find the words, just say it. Either that, or when this weekends over, we'll be heading back to the West Coast and you'll be regretting everything you didn't say."_ _ _

__Gerard didn't know how to not fuck this up. He didn't know what to do or say that would leave him not regretting this weekend, not regretting this one moment that he had to say what he needed to say to Frank._ _

__His mind was blank and his hands were shaking._ _

__What could he possibly say that would relay to Frank everything he was feeling?_ _

__That he loved him? That he needed him? That he wanted with every fibre of his being to try to make this work, to ditch California and follow Frank to the ends of the earth instead?_ _

__All true, and all 100% not coming out of Gerard's mouth._ _

__He felt his throat closing up. He feared he would be unable to follow Mikey's advice._ _

__Gerard suddenly felt his body moving before he told it to - he closed the distance between him and Frank and wrapped his arms around him tightly. Frank seemed surprised at this, but quickly hugged him back, pressing his face into Gerard's shoulder._ _

__"I'm gonna miss you, G." Franks voice was muffled by the fabric of Gerard's shirt._ _

__"I know, Frankie. I'm gonna miss you too."_ _

__And at that point there was nothing left to say._ _

__Gerard pulled back and smiled halfheartedly down at Frank. He studied his face. The curves and fine lines, the color of lips and the depth of his big, dark eyes. He tried to memorize the details._ _

__"I - I should probably get going."_ _

__Frank nodded slowly._ _

__Gerard removed his arms from their tight grip around Frank and took a step back._ _

__"Bye, Frankie."_ _

__"See ya, G."_ _

__Gerard turned towards the car where he could see Mikey watching them. Mikey looked away quickly when Gerard saw him. Gerard gave one last wave to Frank before tugging open the rusted door._ _

__Gerard could already feel the coming regret. He had so much to say, but had been unable to make himself say any of it. No matter how much he wanted to. He wasn't even sure how much a difference it would make if he _had_ said everything, though. It wasn't like he could truly just drop his life in California and move to Jersey where they would live happily ever after. That couldn't happen. It couldn't work out like that, not with Gerard's luck._ _

__So that was it._ _

__Gerard got into his car and drove away. He just drove away._ _

__He drove away with the sun setting and the best thing that had ever happened to him in his rearview mirror._ _


End file.
